


Aftershocks

by trulymadlylarry



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Bullying, Cuddling, Grieving, Homophobia, I'm basically just creating my own season 2, Kissing, M/M, PTSD, blow jobs & anal sex :), details about the red hook party™, fight me it's my favorite headcanon, gabe is the biggest philkas shipper, lukas accepting himself, philip calls lukas luka when he's being sassy or sarcastic, smut!!!, typical family drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2018-09-14 18:04:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 37,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9197357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trulymadlylarry/pseuds/trulymadlylarry
Summary: "Grief is like an earthquake. The first one hits you and the world falls apart. Even after you put the world together again there are aftershocks, and you never really know when those will come." - unknownOr, a story following episode 1x10 of Eyewitness, detailing the repercussions of Lukas and Philip's trauma.





	1. Boa Constrictor

At the moment, Philip doesn't know how to describe his emotions— at least, not in actual words. It's like there's gravel building up in the pit of his stomach, weighing him down. Like there's a boa constrictor coiled around his neck, squeezing his throat like its prey, preventing it from breathing. Like he's going through life in slow motion with a black and white filter, turning everything dull and lethargic.

It's a mixture of many complex feelings, all of which are blatantly miserable.

_She's dead, Philip._

He can still hear Helen's soft voice echoing in his brain. He can feel the ghost of her hand resting on his shoulder and the cold stare of her sad, watery eyes as she explained what happened. How Ryan Kane made Anne overdose on heroin, killing her with the one thing she tried so hard to avoid.

Currently, Philip is lying in his bed with wet cheeks, curled up in his blankets like a cocoon. It's warm in the house and he's sweating, but he can't bring himself to take the blankets off. They make him feel safe, almost like a protective barrier. One of them is his mother's favorite quilt, and it still smells like her— cigarette smoke and cheap vanilla scented body spray.

There's a waste basket on the floor filled with a mountain of crumpled tissues. On his bedside table, there's an unopened package of non-prescription sleep aid pills. Helen had purchased them in hopes of helping Philip sleep, but he refused to take any. He just wants to grieve and cry and be alone with his guilt, not sleep. He doesn't deserve sleep.

He can't stop the never-ending stream of _what if_ questions running through his brain. If Lukas and Philip had come forward about the cabin shooter sooner, maybe Anne would still be alive. Maybe she wouldn't be lying in a box right now, cold and lifeless, waiting to be buried in the ground.

Anne was doing so well in rehab. She was actually getting better, and Ryan just destroyed everything she worked so hard towards. It wasn't fair. Life isn't fair.

There's a soft knock on the door. Philip grumbles in protest and covers his head with the quilt, whimpering.

"I'm not hungry," Philip murmurs, voice muffled against his pillow.

Over the past three days, Helen and Gabe have tried to convince him to eat something, stay hydrated, take a shower, and visit Lukas in the hospital. But he just can't.

There's a pause. "It's me."

Philip's heart leaps in his chest at the sound of Lukas's voice, but he doesn't move or say anything. Doesn't have the strength to speak.

"I— they finally let me out of the hospital," Lukas continues, slow and cautious. He sounds quiet through the thick wooden door. "I understand if you don't want to see me, but I just wanted to stop by. I miss you, man."

Philip frowns against his pillow and swallows the lump in his throat. _I miss you more_ , he wants to say, but no words come out. The snake around his neck tightens its grip.

"Helen told me what happened to your mom," Lukas says dryly. "I've been texting you nonstop for days, but..."

His voice fades into silence. Philip chews on the inside of his cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Philip," Lukas rasps.

Philip's bottom lip quivers, but he still doesn't say anything. His vision is blurred by his tears.

"Your mom deserved better," Lukas continues shakily. "If I hadn't been such an asshole, then maybe she'd— maybe Ryan wouldn't have—"

"Don't," Philip says softly.

He doesn't want Lukas to blame himself. He couldn't have predicted this would happen. Ryan Kane was the one who killed Anne, not Lukas. He already had enough on his mind with a healing bullet wound and severe PTSD. He didn't need to add crippling guilt to the list.

A few seconds of silence pass between them. Slowly, Philip sits up in his bed and pulls the blanket around his body, sighing.

"Come in," he mumbles.

Without skipping a beat, Lukas opens the door and walks inside. He stares at Philip silently for a long moment, just soaking in his image. The sight of him takes his breath away.

His hair is messy and a bit greasy, flying in all directions. He hasn't shaved in over three days, leaving a faint shadow of facial hair above his upper lip. He looks pale and exhausted with dark circles beneath his eyes. He's been crying too much to wear his contacts, so he's relying on his glasses instead, which are circular and frame his brown eyes beautifully. They look cute on him, Lukas thinks. He wonders why he doesn't wear them more often, but he'll save that conversation for another day.

Lukas is wearing a plaid flannel shirt and jeans with holes in the knees, and Philip eyes him up and down, throat bobbing. He stares at him from across the room like a scared, timid dog with untrusting eyes. But he isn't scared of _him_ — he's just scared of life in general. It's not Lukas's fault.

"Hi," Lukas says breathlessly, awkwardly tucking his hands in his pockets.

Philip frowns. "Hi. How's your chest?"

Lukas shrugs and tugs on the corner of his shirt a bit, pulling it down to reveal a white bandage over his bullet wound. "I'm fine. I still can't ride my bike, but my dad actually dropped me off here," he rambles. "My doctor's got me on some really strong painkillers, so everything's kinda... numb."

Philip bites his lip and looks downward, studying one of the patches on Anne's quilt. He traces the individual stitches with his eyes to distract himself. "Yeah, I know the feeling."

Lukas's lips flatten into a thin line. "You'll get through this, dude. We'll be okay," he promises, crouching next to the edge of his bed.

He rests his hand on Philip's thigh and rubs his thumb over the soft fleece of his sweatpants. Surprisingly, he doesn't push him away. He melts beneath his touch and his face softens in an instant. A wave of relief floods Lukas's body.

"I'm sorry I didn't visit you in the hospital," Philip says quietly, almost in a shameful whisper. He absentmindedly picks at a loose thread in his blanket and can feel Lukas's icy eyes burning into his skull. "It's not that I didn't care about you— I was worried sick. It's just... really hard to get out of bed. Or do anything besides cry, for that matter."

"You didn't reply to my texts, either."

Lukas doesn't sound mad, which is a good thing. He just sounds confused.

"I turned my phone off. It was just... too much."

Lukas nods understandingly and rests his hand on Philip's knee, squeezing lightly. "I get it. I mean, I was the same way after my mom died. I just wanted to be alone and pushed people away— even the ones I love, like my dad."

"You're not mad?"

"No, of course not."

Philip licks his chapped lips and meets Lukas's gaze. "It still doesn't feel real."

"It doesn't feel real to me, either," Lukas admits.

Philip clasps his hand over Lukas's. It makes the other boy's heart thud against his ribcage like a drum.

"I'm glad you're okay," Philip says gently.

Lukas nods in agreement. "Me too."

Philip gives a small smile. It's just a weak tug on the corner of his mouth, but at least it's something other than pain. Lukas leans forward and presses his lips against his forehead. His skin feels warm and familiar.

He pulls back and scrunches his nose playfully. "You stink."

Philip chuckles awkwardly. "I haven't showered in a while. Not since Helen told me what happened."

Lukas frowns sympathetically. "Have you been eating? Drinking water?"

"Oh my god, Lukas. You sound like Helen and Gabe."

Lukas rolls his eyes. "I just care about you, idiot. Go take a bath. I'm ordering pizza."

"But—"

"Go," Lukas repeats, pointing towards the bathroom.

Philip quirks an eyebrow. "You're the one who was shot. Shouldn't _I_ be taking care of _you_?"

Lukas shakes his head, ruffling his head of blond hair. "No, I'm all healed. You're the one in pain right now."

Philip strokes the side of Lukas's palm. "I think I'll be okay... eventually. As long as I have you by my side. As long as you can be patient with me."

Lukas smiles warmly. "I'm not going anywhere."

Philip pecks his cheek before climbing out of bed, pushing the heavy quilt off his lap. He slowly trudges to the bathroom down the hallway. After a few seconds, he hears the water turn on and the pipes in the walls begin to hiss.

Meanwhile, Lukas pulls out his phone and orders pizza for delivery from the local Tivoli restaurant. It doesn't compare to authentic New York pizza from the city, but it'll have to suffice.

About fifteen minutes later, Philip stumbles back into his room with a fluffy towel wrapped around his waist, dripping wet and shirtless. Lukas is still waiting on his bed, eyes wide, mouth going dry. He watches as Philip digs through his dresser to find clean clothes. He settles on some grey joggers and a plain white t-shirt that's probably one size too large.

Lukas averts his eyes while Philip gets dressed. Out of his peripheral, he can see the smaller boy pulling on his joggers and tightening the strings. He glances back at Lukas with arched brows.

"We had sex, Luka. You can look at me."

Lukas blushes at the nickname and glances towards Philip. He's still shirtless with wet hair, which looks even longer and darker than it does dry. He gives Lukas a small smirk before tugging the shirt over his head. The thin fabric sticks to his damp chest.

"Did you order the pizza?" Philip asks, running his fingers through his messy curls.

"Yeah, it'll be here in a couple minutes. They said 5:45."

Philip nods and collapses on his bed again. The mattress creaks beneath his weight. He places one hand on his tummy and uses the other as a makeshift pillow, tucking it under his neck. Lukas sits at the foot of the bed and watches him with calm, blue eyes that remind Philip of the ocean.

"I kinda wish it would've been me instead," Philip says abruptly.

Lukas's heart sinks, dropping like a rock to the bottom of a deep trench. "What?"

"I wish Ryan would've killed me instead of my mom. She was— she was trying so hard to get clean," Philip explains solemnly. "I know she was an addict, but she was a great mom. She really loved me."

Lukas frowns. "Do you really think she'd want you to say that? That you wish you were dead instead of her?"

"No, but that's how I feel."

"Well, then stop feeling that way."

"It's not that easy, Lukas."

Suddenly, the bedroom door opens with an audible squeak. Their eyes shoot towards the sound. Helen cautiously steps into Philip's room and smiles. There's a large pizza box in her hands, soaked with grease.

"Hey, boys. Did one of you order a pizza?"

Lukas's eyes widen as he stands up, fishing out his wallet from his back pocket. "Oh, yeah, sorry. I didn't know it came. I'll pay you back—"

"No need," Helen insists. "I already covered it. Gave the delivery guy a big tip, too."

Lukas bites his lip. "Are you sure? I can pay you back. I was the one who ordered it."

She shakes her head and places the pizza on Philip's desk. "Yeah, of course. No worries. I've been trying to get Philip to eat something for days now."

Lukas gives a grateful nod. "Thanks, Sheriff Torrence."

"Thanks, Helen," Philip adds.

Helen waves her hand dismissively. "No big deal. I'll leave you two alone now," she mumbles.

But before she leaves, she pauses halfway and gives them both a firm stare. "Oh, and keep the door open a bit, alright? No funny business."

Philip covers his face with his hands. "Oh my god, Helen."

"What? Rules are rules," she hums.

She even has the audacity to wink before leaving and retreating down the stairs. Philip just continues to blush uncomfortably with his hands covering his face. Lukas chuckles and grabs his wrists.

"No funny business," Lukas teases.

Philip rolls his eyes. His cheeks are as pink as bubblegum. "I hate you."

"No you don't."

Without another word, Lukas grabs the pizza box from the desk and places it between them on the bed. He opens it and picks up a piece, strings of cheese sticking to the cardboard as he pulls it away. It's sausage, onion, and pepperoni— Philip's favorite.

"Eat," Lukas persists.

Philip reluctantly grabs a piece and takes a small nibble. It's barely even a bite, but it's better than nothing.

"Thanks for coming," says Philip, taking another bite. "I missed you."

He chews for a long moment and Lukas watches him with admiration. He kind of looks like an adorable chipmunk with stuffed cheeks.

Lukas smiles. "I missed you, too."

He leans forward and pecks Philip's lips. It's only a small, shy kiss but it manages to soothe all of Philip's rattled nerves for two seconds of bliss. For two seconds, he forgets that his mom is dead. For two seconds, he forgets all of the bad things in his life.

But then, when Lukas draws back, everything comes back to reality. The cabin. Being kidnapped. His mother being murdered.

Philip gulps. "You know, I wish my mom could've gotten to know you better. If she wasn't in rehab, she probably would've invited you over for dinner and made us ramen noodles," he says, laughing dryly. It's a pained kind of laughter that cuts a hole in Lukas's heart. "She was never really a good cook, but she always tried."

Lukas smiles sadly and finishes eating his pizza slice in silence. Philip manages to choke down two pieces before he starts crying again. He suddenly remembers all the times his mother was too high or drunk to cook and ended up ordering delivery food, whether it be Chinese or pizza or sub sandwiches. The bittersweet memories feel like sharp nails clawing at his heart.

It's all too much.

The blond boy holds him while he cries into his shoulder, soaking the soft fabric of his flannel. The snake around his throat tightens and suffocates him until he can barely breathe. His stomach feels dense with pain and grief.

So Lukas just hushes him and wraps him in his arms, trying to make his burdens seem less heavy.

 


	2. Black Umbrellas

Dark clouds plague the sky and deprive the world of sunshine, turning everything dull and grey. The crisp wind shakes the skeletal trees and twirls fallen leaves through the air. A steady drizzle of rain falls to the earth and quenches the dry grass. Philip has never been very religious, but for a moment he wonders if God is crying for his mother.

Philip stands in front of his mirror in a black suit and tie, tightening the knot with nimble fingers. His reflection stares back at him with pale skin and chapped lips and dark circles beneath his tired eyes. He barely recognizes himself. His wavy hair is messy and uncombed, but he doesn't have the strength to bother fixing it.

Nothing feels right. His shoes are too tight, his trousers are a bit too long, and his mom is dead.

_She's dead, Philip._

The panic starts to creep into his brain again, spreading like a deadly disease. His heart beats faster and louder. The ache in his stomach intensifies. He closes his eyes and counts backwards from ten in an attempt to calm himself down. Growing up with an addict as a mother, he learned coping mechanisms at an early age.

He just needs to focus on something else. Anything else. He listens to the sound of the rain hitting the shingles.

_Drip, drop, drip._

As a kid, Philip loved the rain. He liked to walk down the pothole-filled streets of the slums and splash through the fresh puddles. He loved the scent that always followed a rainstorm, fresh and clean, masking the rotten stench of the city.

His mother hated the rain. Their roof always had leaks, so she'd have to put buckets beneath the holes to catch the water. She hated driving in the rain the most. She hated the way the streets became glossy and reflective and how her tires skidded across puddles whenever she drove.

Rain in Tivoli is vastly different than rain in the city. In Tivoli, Philip can see everything. There aren't any skyscrapers or smog blocking his view. He can see the clouds rolling in, the droplets creating ripples in the lake's surface, and the dirt roads turning into mud.

A lot of things are different in Tivoli.

Philip sighs and rubs his temples, trying to get rid of his sudden migraine. He sits at the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He repeatedly closes his eyes and opens them again, hoping that he'll suddenly wake up and this will have all been a dream. A nightmare, rather.

"Philip?"

He looks up to see Gabe standing in his doorway. He's wearing a black suit, which is weird, Philip thinks. He's become accustomed to seeing him in jeans and t-shirts. He even shaved and put on proper dress shoes instead of his favorite cowboy boots.

There's a sympathetic frown on his face. "Are you almost ready, Son?"

Philip nods. "Yeah, I— I guess so."

Gabe leans against the doorframe and sighs quietly. He watches as Philip picks at his nails absentmindedly, brown eyes glistening. Nowadays, it's hard for him to remember when Philip wasn't on the verge of tears.

"Is Lukas coming?" he ponders out loud.

"Yeah," Philip gulps. "He's meeting us there. Bo's driving him since he can't ride his bike yet."

He looks surprised. "That's nice of him."

Philip shrugs. He doesn't think Bo deserves a father of the year award for, like, _not_  disowning his gay son. But whatever.

"Guess so."

Gabe gives a tight smile. "We should go. Don't wanna be late."

Philip stands up slowly. He walks downstairs with Gabe's heavy arm draped over his shoulder. He smells like cologne.

Helen is standing in the living room texting on her phone. The blueish glow of her screen illuminates her freckled cheeks. She looks deeply concerned, judging by the expression on her face. Her forehead is creased and her lips are pursed as her fingers dart across her keyboard, creating audible clicks.

"Texting your boyfriend?" Gabe teases.

Helen looks up, surprised to see Philip and Gabe standing at the bottom of the staircase. She smiles awkwardly and tucks her phone into the back pocket of her black slacks.

"It was just Tony," she murmurs, waving her hand dismissively. "Work stuff."

Philip's heart beats a little faster. "Is everything alright?"

Helen nods, seeing the fear and anxiety on her foster son's face. "Yeah, don't worry. It's not about your case."

Philip bites his lip. "Okay."

Helen tilts her head towards the front door. "Ready to go?"

Philip wants to say no, he isn't ready at all. He isn't ready to see his dead mother in a casket being lowered into the ground. He isn't ready to see her tombstone that Helen and Gabe generously paid for, as well as the rest of the funeral costs, because Philip was the only family Anne ever knew. He isn't ready to cry in front of Lukas and his foster parents after all they've been through.

But instead, he just forces out a fake smile. "Yeah, I'm ready."

The three of them climb into Gabe's pickup truck. It's dusty and covered in dirt from driving on the unpaved roads. The interior smells like the pine tree air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror. Philip sits between Helen and Gabe with his hands in his lap, nervously toying with his fingers.

Helen looks at him with sad eyes. "If you need to leave during the service, just let us know, okay? If it's too much—"

"No," Philip interrupts, huffing. "I'll be okay."

Helen looks unconvinced, but she nods anyway. Gabe puts his key in the ignition and tries to start the truck. The loud engine chokes a few times before rumbling.

They drive down the long dirt road that leads stretches through the heart of Tivoli. Eventually, they merge on the freeway and start driving out of town. Philip wanted to have Anne's funeral where she grew up, in a small town on the outskirts of Albany. She always talked about how much she loved it.

Heavy rain hits the windshield, quickly brushed off by the fast-moving wipers.

_Drip, drop, drip._

Philip closes his eyes and focuses on the sound of the rain. The rest of the world is just background noise.

° ° °

She looks beautiful in the rose gold casket— peaceful, even. Her bony hands are folded on her stomach. She's wearing one of her favorite dresses. It's casual and covered in a paisley pattern, not something most people would choose to be buried in, but Anne was never one for fancy attire.

She's skinny, of course, but the blue veins that once covered her skin like spiderwebs are now barely noticeable. The mortician did a good job. With her eyes closed like this, she appears as though she's sleeping.

Philip stands around her casket with the small crowd of people who bothered showing up. Gabe and Helen stand to his left while Lukas is on his right, holding his hand. Surprisingly, Bo came to the funeral, as well, to show his respects. He sees the boys with interlocked hands, and he seems a little uncomfortable, but he doesn't say anything about it. Which is a relief.

There are a few other people. Two of Anne's co-workers from the diner she worked at came with flowers and tears in their eyes. Their neighbor from the city, an older man named John, is standing near her casket in a denim jacket with a frown on his wrinkled face. There's another man whom Philip doesn't recognize— he assumes he's one of Anne's countless exes— who's standing under the shade of a tall oak tree. He looks slightly intoxicated. The sight of the drunk man doesn't surprise him. Most of the people Anne knew were drug addicts or alcoholics or both.

It's a small group, but it's more than Philip anticipated. Nobody ever stuck around Anne for too long.

The rain continues to pour around them. Their heads are shielded by a sea of black umbrellas. The graveyard is a maze of tombstones with wilted flowers tossed on top of them. Some of the gravestones have crumbled from old age, left unattended, becoming nothing but forgotten souls.

The priest reads a few verses from the Bible. His voice is low and steady. Philip doesn't know when he starts crying exactly, but suddenly there's wet tears slipping down his cheeks. Lukas squeezes his hand a little tighter.

"Philip," the priest says, bringing him back to reality. He closes the Bible in his hands. "Did you want to say a few words?"

Philip exhales shakily and nods. He lets go of Lukas's hand and steps closer to Anne's casket. He rests his palm on the edge of the coffin and takes a deep breath.

"I— um, my mom was my best friend," he begins, looking at her deceased body. He wants nothing more than to give his mother one last hug, one last kiss on the cheek, but he can't. It hurts to physically see her but not really see _her_. "I never thought anybody besides me cared about her, so... thank you all for coming out today. In the rain."

He chokes down his tears and closes his eyes for a few seconds. Focuses on breathing. When he opens his eyes again, Lukas is staring back at him with pretty blue irises and a reassuring smile that says _everything will be okay._

Philip continues, "She was a good person. Most people looked at her and saw a drug addict or a bad mom, but... she was so much more than that. She had me when she was barely eighteen years old, and she dropped out of high school to take care of me. She— she loved me so much."

He looks back at Anne's body and blinks away his tears. "I love you, Mom. I'm sorry for everything."

He leans down and presses a kiss to her cold forehead. Afterwards, Helen wraps Philip in her arms and shields him from the rain with her black umbrella. She rubs his arm soothingly while Anne's casket is closed and lowered into the damp earth. Lukas holds his hand. Gabe rests his calloused palm on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

Philip wipes away his tears with the back of his hand. He doesn't have the courage to see her casket being buried underground. Underground is permanent. His heart feels empty and hollow.

Instead, he looks towards the sky and watches as the grey clouds begin to spread apart, letting the bright sun shine through. The warmth of sunlight kisses his skin. The rain gradually begins to slow down to a light drizzle.

"It's gonna be okay," Lukas tells him for what seems like the millionth time.

But for the first time, Philip actually believes him.

°°°

The next day, Helen takes Philip to his old apartment in the city. He has to sort through Anne's belongings and decide what he wants to keep or get rid of. Everything left behind will be taken to the dump by the complex manager by the end of the week.

Of course, Philip asks Lukas to come with, and Helen can't really say no. After all they've been through, she couldn't possibly separate them.

Stepping into his old home sends a shiver down Philip's spine. He remembers walking in there with Lukas and coming face-to-face with Ryan. He remembers the fear surging through his veins and the sickening smile on the murderer's face. He often sees that face in his nightmares.

Philip looks around. It appears as though someone still lives here. There's a glass of water on the coffee table, resting on a coaster. The carpet looks freshly vacuumed. Her ashtray is still filled with half-smoked cigarettes and grey, powdery ash. A pair of Anne's flip flops lay upon the welcome mat, speckled with dirt.

It doesn't look like the home of a dead person.

Lukas notices the odd look on Philip's face. "Hey," he says, brushing his arm softly. "Are you okay?"

Philip blinks a few times before nodding. He looks up at Lukas and wonders what he did to deserve him. Through all of this, Lukas has been exceptionally supportive and tentative. Perhaps it's because he knows what Philip's going through. He knows what it's like to lose a mom, and he knows how to handle it.

After a few seconds, he says, "Mhm, I— I just don't really know where to start."

Helen places her hands on her hips and glances around the apartment cluelessly. "Her bedroom?" she suggests with raised eyebrows.

Philip nods. "Yeah, okay."

Anne's bedroom is neat. Most expect drug addicts to be messy or unsanitary, but not Anne. She was always cleaning or rearranging furniture, even when she was high or drunk. Her bed is neatly made, and her floor is completely spotless. The wooden bookshelf is void of dust and smudges.

Philip gulps. "Could we donate some of her clothes to charity?" he asks Helen. "I think that's what she'd want us to do."

His foster mom smiles and nods. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

"Maybe we could donate some of the furniture, too," Lukas proposes.

"Yeah, sure."

The next two hours are spent searching through Anne's clothes and deciding what's worthy of donation or what belongs in the trash. Meanwhile, Helen flees to the kitchen to sort through Anne's dishes and cutlery. Lukas and Philip manage to clear out her dresser and organize her clothes into two piles: donation and dump.

Afterwards, they move onto her closet. Philip opens up the accordion-style doors to reveal countless shirts, dresses, and sweaters arranged in a color coordinated manner. Lukas lets out an airy chuckle.

"She sure loved clothes," he muses.

"Yeah, she did."

Philip flips through the metal hangers, causing them to scrape against the bar. He reaches to the back of the closet and freezes. With furrowed brows, he pulls out a white wedding dress. It's beautiful, trimmed with lace and filled with silky ripples.

"Woah," Lukas says breathlessly. "Your mom was married?"

Philip cradles the gown in his arms like it's made of glass. He stares at it with disbelief. "For, like, a month. I didn't know she kept this."

"Really?"

"She married my dad after he knocked her up," Philip mumbles. "It didn't last long, obviously. He left before I was even born. They were young and stupid."

Lukas smiles fondly. "Kinda like us."

Philip cocks an eyebrow. "You're gonna knock me up?" he teases.

Lukas laughs and punches his shoulder playfully. "That's not what I meant, idiot."

Philip chuckles. Every time he smiles genuinely, it gives Lukas a spark of hope. A hope that he's strong enough to get through this.

"I didn't know you had a dad."

"Well, yeah. That's kinda how babies are made, Luka."

"I know, I just— you never mentioned him."

"Because I don't know who he is. My mom never even showed me pictures of him. She burned them all," he says softly. "All I know is his name, Richard Welks."

Lukas frowns and brushes a loose curl out of Philip's eyes. The shorter boy looks up at him bashfully. He's pale and tired and his eyes are red from crying so much, but he's still beautiful. Butterflies float around in Lukas's stomach.

"I'm sorry," Lukas hums. "About your dad, I mean.

Philip gives a small shrug. "It's okay."

"It's not okay."

"A lot of things in my life aren't okay, Lukas."

The blond bites the inside of his cheek, frowning. "Did you ever try to find your dad?"

"No," he answers without skipping a beat. "I figured if he doesn't want me in my life, I shouldn't bother trying to find him. He's probably a druggie... or dead."

"He doesn't deserve you anyway, Philip," he says gently. "You're amazing."

Philip just leans up on his tiptoes and pecks his lips. Lukas smiles into the kiss and threads his fingers through his soft hair. Kissing Philip has started to feel as natural as breathing.

When they separate, Lukas is staring down at him intensely and rests his hands on his hips. His thumb brushes over his warm, soft skin. Philip's cheeks are rosy and dimpled as his lips curl into a smile.

"Thank you for being here. The tough parts feel a lot easier when you're around," he says quietly.

Lukas wraps him in a tight hug and kisses his forehead. He leaves his lips to linger for a few seconds longer than necessary. Philip exhales a soft, content sigh.

When he pulls back, Philip is staring down at the wedding dress in his arms. The fabric looks old and faded, but it's still beautiful. He tries to imagine what Anne might've looked like on her wedding day. She was probably breathtaking.

"I think I'm gonna keep this," Philip murmurs.

Lukas nods in agreement. "Yeah, I think you should."

Philip sets the gown aside before returning to her closet. They spend the next hour or so carefully sorting through her clothes and reminiscing on memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, commentary feedback and kudos are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! I'll update again soon. 
> 
> \- Cara


	3. The Hunter in the Woods

At school, Lukas tells everyone it was a hunting accident. He was wandering through the woods with his dad, looking for deer, when a local careless hunter mistook him for a buck. He wasn't wearing his orange hunting vest and was accidentally shot in the chest.

Nobody even bats an eyelash. Over the next week or so, he receives countless "get well soon" cards and sympathetic hugs from friends. Everyone treats him like royalty. It's kind of nice, in a sense. He likes being the center of attention. Thrives off of it. Always in need of constant validation and regard.

But the sad part is, nobody notices that Philip hasn't been coming to school. He's been cooped up in Helen and Gabe's house, grieving, trying to cope with the death of his mother. He can't bother coming to school or doing anything, for that matter. Nobody cares about Philip in Tivoli. They only know him as the gay kid from the city who stalks Lukas Waldenbeck.

So nobody at school pays attention to Philip's empty desk. Nobody notices he's gone. Everyone has more important things to worry about.

Well, everyone but Lukas.

There's a stack of homework on Philip's desk that grows taller each day. After school, Lukas always brings Philip his missed assignments and notes from lectures. Sometimes he actually sits down and attempts to do schoolwork, to catch up on all the days he's missed, but he can never focus for longer than a few minutes. Bad thoughts always interrupt his brain.

How can he calculate sine, cosine, and tangent when his mother is dead?

But Lukas tries to be there for him whenever he breaks down in the middle of reading a textbook or writing an essay. The sadness comes in unexpected, random waves. He just cradles Philip in his arms and lets him cry against his shoulder, tears soaking his shirt.

When they're alone, in private, Lukas can be whoever he wants to be. He doesn't have to be the tough guy who was shot in the chest by a random hunter. He can be the vulnerable boy who cares about Philip more than anything else.

-

Across the kitchen, Philip stares at the wall calendar that hangs crookedly on a bent nail. Each month has a beautiful landscape photograph taken somewhere in New York, from Niagara Falls to the heart of New York City. This month's picture is a photo of the Statue of Liberty with a sunset in the background, glimmering orange light over the calm water.

Every morning, Helen marks the daily box with a red 'x' to keep track of the date. He counts the number of days he's missed school in his head.

Fourteen, not including weekends. Almost three weeks.

It doesn't seem like it's been that long since his mother was killed. The pain still feels like a fresh wound, bloody and raw. Every time he thinks he's finding a little bit of closure, the sharp claws of trauma pick at his scab and rip it open again. It's a never-ending cycle of grief.

Suddenly, Philip hears the familiar rumble of Lukas's motorcycle engine. Nostalgia tugs at his stomach as memories float into his mind. He remembers all the times he wrapped his arms around his waist as they rode down dirt roads, resting his chin on his shoulder. The vibration of the bike between his thighs. The pressure of the helmet against his ears, blocking out the noise.

Unfortunately, Lukas hasn't been able to ride his bike since he was shot. The doctors advised him not to participate in motocross until his stitches were removed and the wound fully healed. Instead, his father has been driving him to and from school in his old, beat up pickup truck that smells like cigarette smoke. Lukas tries to be strong for Philip's sake and pretends it doesn't bother him, that he doesn't miss his bike, but Philip knows the truth. To Lukas, losing his motorcycle is like losing part of himself, as silly as it may sound.

All things considered, Philip is completely startled when he looks out the kitchen window to see Lukas riding his bike up his driveway, creating a cloud of brown dust in his trail. He's wearing his favorite helmet and that awful green shirt that Philip says he hates but secretly loves. He parks his bike near the front porch and takes off his helmet, brushing a hand through his messy blond hair.

Filled with confusion, Philip walks over to the front door and steps outside. He's seldom gone outdoors since Anne's funeral, except for the rare times he's fetched the bills from the mailbox or taken out the trash. He's sort of missed the feeling of the sun against his face and the scent of fresh country air. Up above, the sapphire sky is interlaced with white, fluffy clouds that resemble cotton balls.

Lukas grins. "Hey."

"Hey."

"The doctors said I can ride my bike now," he says enthusiastically.

Philip raises an eyebrow. "Isn't it a little too soon?" he worries.

Lukas shakes his head. "No. I mean— I can't do flips or tricks yet, but at least I can start riding again. I really missed it."

Philip smiles softly. "That's really great news, Lukas."

He nods in agreement and walks up the creaky porch steps. The wood squeaks beneath his brown combat boots. He caresses Philip's face with his warm, soft hands and pecks his lips gently, as if he's made of fragile glass. Philip smiles into the kiss.

Lukas pulls back but keeps his palm against Philip's cheek. "I was thinking... if you're ready, maybe I could give you a ride to school tomorrow."

Philip gulps. He studies Lukas's eyes for a moment. "You won't be embarrassed to be seen with me?" he asks quietly.

Lukas frowns and drops his hand before stuffing it in his pocket instead. Philip immediately misses the warmth of his touch. The blond stares down at the porch and nudges a loose board with the toe of his boot, avoiding eye contact.

"I'm not embarrassed," Lukas insists, but his voice says otherwise. It's hushed and shaky.

"It's alright if you don't want to— y'know. Come out. I'm okay with keeping this a secret."

Lukas bites his lip. "Is that what _you_ want?"

"It doesn't matter what I want."

The taller boy scoffs. "Of course it matters, dude."

Philip huffs and throws his hands in the air, feeling frustrated. "Well, I _want_ you to be able to be Rick Anderton all the time, but not if it means we'll get harassed by homophobes."

Lukas's jaw tightens. "I'd never— I'd never let anyone hurt you, Philip."

Philip laughs at the irony. "Like you did?"

Lukas frowns. He tries not to remember the feeling of his fist colliding with Philip's face. Tries not to remember giving him a busted lip as a small crowd gathered around them, taking pictures and videos with their phones. He hates that version of himself.

"Hey," Philip hums, rubbing his arm softly. "I'm just kidding."

Lukas swallows the lump in his throat. "I don't like thinking about what I did to you."

"You've apologized, like, a hundred times. I forgive you."

"That doesn't make it okay."

Philip shrugs. "It's in the past."

"But _I'm_ the reason people at school think you're weird. I told everyone you were following me. I called you a stalker. I hit you," Lukas rambles, stomach heavy with guilt. "So now we can't even pretend to be _just friends_. Nobody would believe that. We're supposed to hate each other."

"Well, for the record, I don't hate you," Philip teases, caressing the back of Lukas's neck. He looks up slowly and meets Philip's calm chestnut eyes. "I just _dislike_ you."

Lukas grins and nudges Philip with his elbow. "Shut up."

"Make me."

Lukas smirks before placing his hands on Philip's hips and pushing him up against the side of the house, kissing him senselessly. Philip hums contently and wraps his arms around Lukas's shoulders. They kiss lazily for a minute or so, just listening to the sounds of birds chirping in the distance.

When they finally break apart, Lukas brushes his nose against Philip's. His cheeks are flushed, and Philip thinks this may be the first time he's seen Lukas actually blush. It's kind of adorable.

"We'll figure something out, right? We'll make this work," Lukas says hopefully.

Philip smiles warmly. He's doubtful, but he doesn't want to crush Lukas's hopes and dreams. He knows they'll probably have to avoid each other at school and pretend they're enemies to prevent people from becoming suspicious. It's inevitable, really.

"Yeah, sure," Philip says passively. He takes a deep breath and decides to change the subject. "Do you have any homework for me?"

Lukas shrugs his backpack off his shoulders and unzips it. He pulls out a few sheets of lined paper stapled together.

"Rose took some history notes for you," he explains, giving them to Philip.

Philip's eyes scan over the notes slowly. Rose's handwriting is immaculately neat and feminine. She even highlighted all the vocabulary words in pink. He doesn't know why she's being so kind to him, he probably doesn't deserve it, but he's grateful nonetheless.

"Mr. Benson said you can do the reading quiz online. He'll email it to you. And Mrs. Hartford said you can take the geometry test whenever you come back to school."

Philip nods, still staring at the notes in his hands. "Okay, thanks."

Lukas notices the distracted look on his face. He's thinking deeply about something. Whenever he's contemplating, this vein in his temple bulges a little. Over time, he's started to notice all of Philip's tiny unconscious mannerisms.

"What's wrong?" Lukas asks curiously.

Philip looks up. Bites the inside of his cheek. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I just— I think I'm gonna go back to school tomorrow. I'm ready."

Lukas's face lights up. "Really?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"You don't sound very enthusiastic," Lukas points out. "Aren't you excited to go back? To start living normally again?"

Philip's jaw clenches. "My life will never be normal again, Lukas. We witnessed a triple homicide. We were kidnapped. My mom was murdered. I can't just— pretend to be _normal_ after that." He pauses. "I'm not like you."

"Yeah, well, when you spend seventeen years pretending to be someone you're not, it's pretty easy."

Growing up in a conservative family, Lukas was expected to be the typical farmer's son. He was supposed to be strong and conform to society's ideas about what it meant to be a man. For everyone else's sake, he pretended to be interested in killing turkeys and fixing tractors and dating girls.

"I'm just... tired of all this," Philip breathes out.

Lukas's eyes widen a little. "Tired of me?"

Philip rolls his eyes at the accusation. "No, of course not. I'm just tired of being sad all the time," he explains. "I only ever feel okay when you're with me, so what am I supposed to do at school without you?"

Lukas purses his lips, unable to come up with a response. The truth is, Philip deserves better than him. He deserves to be with someone who isn't afraid to hold his hand in public. He deserves to be with someone who can be there for him no matter what, even if it costs him his reputation.

"I'm not blaming you," Philip assures, practically reading Lukas's thoughts. "I'd never want to pressure you to come out if you're not ready. I know it's a big deal, especially out here. I just wish it didn't have to be that way, is all."

Lukas nods understandingly. He wishes it didn't have to be this way, either.

Philip sighs at length. "Anyway, do you wanna help me study for math? If I'm gonna ace that test tomorrow, I might need a tutor."

Lukas grins. "I failed algebra twice, but yeah. I can try."

Philip snorts and grabs Lukas's hand. He guides him into the house and shuts the door behind them. The air is significantly colder inside and peppers Lukas's pale skin with goosebumps. They trot upstairs with their hands still interlocked, trying not to disturb Gabe in the nearby living room. He's too distracted by the football game on the television to notice.

When they enter Philip's room, Lukas lets out a soft sigh. He looks around aimlessly and smiles to himself. His walls are decorated with Polaroid photographs and his windows are illuminated by fairy lights. His bed sheets and pillows are a crisp white color, wrinkled and unmade. Anne's quilt rests on top. The edges are frayed and it's filled with holes, but Philip cherishes it more than anything else.

"Wow, this room is actually starting to look like... you."

Before, this room was a blank canvas. Philip never bothered customizing it because he thought living here would just be temporary. But now it's permanent, so he might as well make himself feel at home.

Philip smiles bashfully and sets Rose's history notes on top of the growing pile of homework. "Thanks. I took all my stuff from my old room when we were cleaning out the apartment."

Lukas hums. "It's nice."

"You know what else would be nice? Not failing this math test tomorrow," Philip grumbles, opening his geometry textbook. "Are you gonna help me or not?"

Lukas huffs before reluctantly sitting with Philip at his desk. With a pencil in his hand, he helps him work through his study guide. Philip's never been particularly great at mathematics— he's always leaned more towards creativity and art. But, surprisingly, Lukas makes everything make sense.

"For this one, you just multiply _x_ by two 'cause it's the hypotenuse. See?" He points to the blurry picture of the triangle at the bottom of the page. 

Philip gives him a weird look. "How are you so good at this?"

He shrugs. "Motocross jumps and tricks are all just geometry and physics. Math is easy for me."

"But I thought you failed algebra twice?"

"I did," Lukas admits awkwardly. He stares at the eraser shavings that are scattered across the wooden surface of his desk. "Popular guys who ride motorcycles aren't supposed to get straight A's."

"So, what? You just pretend to be stupid on purpose?"

"I pretend to be a lot of things I'm not."

The brown-eyed boy frowns at that. He opens his mouth to say something, but Lukas interrupts.

"Let's just finish the review, okay? I wanna take you out for a ride on my bike after this," he rambles.

Philip doesn't let go of the conversation that easily. "You can always be real around me, Lukas. You know that, right? You don't have to pretend to be anyone."

He nods slowly. "Yeah, I know."

"Good," Philip chirps.

He grabs Lukas's spin chair and turns him so they're facing each other. Lukas looks down at him with startled blue eyes. Philip leans forward and kisses him softly, brushing a hand through his bleached blond hair.

When Lukas breaks the kiss, his lips are red and shiny and his pupils are blown wide. His hands are attached to Philip's hips like they belong there.

"What about studying for the test?" he asks hesitantly.

Philip gives a pleased smile and shrugs. "There are more important things than calculating the volume of a sphere, Luka."

"Yeah? Like what?" Lukas teases with false innocence.

Philip just rolls his eyes and kisses him again. And again. And again.

"You're an idiot," he mutters between pecks, causing Lukas to smile against his lips.


	4. Breaking Hibernation

The hardwood floor feels like ice beneath Philip's feet as he walks into the kitchen, scrubbing his tired eyes with his knuckles. His lethargic movements are syrupy slow. Nowadays, simple tasks like getting out of bed or brushing his teeth drain all of his energy. The dark circles beneath his eyes and repetitive migraines are constant reminders of his exhaustion.

Wordlessly, Philip grabs a mug from the cupboard and begins to fill it with coffee. Although he usually drinks it black, he adds a dash of sugar for good measure. He sips it in silence and gazes out the nearby window, watching a squirrel scurry around the yard. The warmth of the coffee cup loosens his clammy hands.

"The cub has finally emerged from its den," Gabe says softly, entering the kitchen. He has the local newspaper tucked under his arm.

Philip forces out a smile. "Morning." His voice is sore and scratchy.

Gabe sits at the table and starts working on the weekly crossword puzzle. His forehead wrinkles with concentration as he presses the wooden pencil to the paper, filling in the tiny boxes. Philip stands across the room and sips his coffee in silence. The warm steam curls up towards his reddened nose.

"So, I think I'm gonna go back to school today," Philip says abruptly.

Gabe glances up, surprised. "Really?"

Philip nods slowly. "Yeah."

His foster father looks overjoyed. "That's great, Philip. I'm sure Helen can drop you off on her way to work."

"Actually, Lukas offered to take me."

Gabe's mouth morphs into an "o" shape. "Oh, alright."

Philip flushes and takes another sip of his coffee. He doesn't know why he feels so uncomfortable talking about Lukas in front of Helen and Gabe. It's not like he's ashamed to be with Lukas or wants to keep their relationship a secret—no, that's far from the truth. In fact, he's quite _proud_ to call Lukas his after all the bullshit they went through.

Regardless, he can't stop the faint hint of pink that glows on his cheeks whenever he mentions Lukas's name.

"If you change your mind during the day and need to come home, just give me a call, okay?" Gabe says apprehensively.

"Yeah, I will."

Gabe opens his mouth to say something, probably a piece of cliche fatherly advice, but he's interrupted by the sound of Lukas's motorcycle speeding up their driveway. Philip glances out the window and sees Lukas riding his bike with a cloud of dirt in his trail. He's wearing his favorite helmet, the red one, and bits of his blond hair are poking out of the bottom.

"Have a good day, Son," Gabe murmurs, giving him a gentle grin.

"Thanks," Philip hums. He slings his heavy backpack over his shoulder and slips on his shoes, not bothering to tie the laces.

He walks outside to find the weather a tad colder than he anticipated. He crosses his arms over his chest and clenches his teeth. There's fresh dew on the green grass, and the sun is blocked by grey, wispy clouds.

"Hey," Philip greets, walking down the porch steps.

Lukas climbs off his bike and removes his helmet, shaking his messy hair. "Hey."

He drops a chaste kiss on Philip's lips before pulling him in for a big hug. Philip smiles against his shoulder as Lukas rubs his back, calming his rattled nerves. He's trying to be strong and pretend like going back to school isn't a big deal, but it _is_. It's a huge deal.

"Ready to go?" Lukas asks, giving Philip his spare helmet.

Philip hesitates with the helmet in his frozen hands. "Are you sure about this?"

"About what?"

"Giving me a ride to school."

Lukas just shrugs. "Yeah, why not?"

Philip kicks a stray rock with the toe of his shoe, avoiding eye contact. "I just— I didn't think you'd want to be seen with me."

Lukas shakes his head. "I don't care what anyone thinks."

It's a complete lie, and they both know it. Lukas cares too much about what others think of him. He tries _so_ hard to get everyone to like him. His reputation at school is built upon lies and a burning need for approval.

"You can just... drop me off before we get to school," Philip suggests lightly. "I don't mind walking a little. Some exercise would probably do me good."

Lukas frowns. "No, I—"

"Lukas, we both know you're not ready to come out, and that's okay."

"Who said anything about coming out? I'm just offering to give you a ride to school."

Philip tilts his head doubtfully. "You don't think people will be suspicious when you come to school with your supposed enemy on the back of your bike?"

Lukas bites his bottom lip. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

"I'm always right," Philip teases.

Lukas gives him a _look_ , but he doesn't say anything. He knows Philip has a point. Everyone at school believes they hate each other, and if he showed up to school with Philip on his bike, arms wrapped around his waist, it'd be weird. Very weird.

"Let's go. Don't wanna be late for first period," Philip insists, nudging Lukas with his elbow.

Lukas smiles to himself and watches Philip shove the spare helmet over his head. He makes a mental note to buy Philip his own helmet someday. Lukas's helmets tend to be a bit too large for him, all wobbly and loose.

The blond reluctantly climbs on his bike and Philip settles comfortably behind him. He snakes his arms around his waist and nuzzles his nose into his shoulder. They drive down the dirt roads that lead to the school with the wind blowing against their faces. It's bumpy, and perhaps Lukas turns on corners a bit too sharply, but it's perfect. He missed this.

Growing up in the city, Philip didn't have much exposure to motocross before he met Lukas. At first he only pretended to be interested in motorcycles to get close to Lukas, but over time the interest became genuine. He loves seeing the excitement on Lukas's face when he talks about learning new jumps or tricks. He loves the feeling of the bike beneath him, rumbling, speeding down the roads while he clutches to Lukas for dear life.

He drops Philip off one block away from school near a rundown barber shop. The brick building probably should've been bulldozed years ago, but it's still barely standing with a flickering neon "open" sign in the cracked window. The parking lot is just a gravel circle of faded tire tracks.

There's no goodbye kiss or verbal farewell. He just looks at Philip, frowns apologetically, and speeds away without a single word.

Philip watches as Lukas drives away and vanishes into the horizon. Sighing, he grabs his phone from his back pocket and plugs in his earbuds. He starts listening to their playlist as he walks down the sidewalk, stepping over pot holes and pieces of broken concrete.

He keeps his gaze downward and stares at his feet with each step. He knows he probably looks like a mess right now— he's wearing grey sweatpants and a t-shirt that has a mysterious hole near the hem. His socks don't even match. The left one is green with stripes and the right is solid orange. He didn't even bother combing his hair in the morning, not that it would've mattered. The helmet always messes it up anyway.

At the moment, looking aesthetically presentable isn't exactly top priority on his list. Frankly, he just wants to get through the day without bursting into tears in the middle of the hallway. If he can do that, he'll consider it a success.

-

For a multitude of reasons, lunch in the cafeteria is awkward.

Philip isn't even hungry in the first place. He hasn't had much of an appetite since Anne passed away, let alone an appetite for cold, soggy sandwiches and lukewarm apple juice. He can't help but scowl at the sight of food.

He wanders around the cafeteria aimlessly with a plastic tray in his hands, balancing the food that he probably won't end up eating. He doesn't know where to sit. He slowly gazes around the rectangular tables and and spots the various cliques— the choir nerds near the window, the anime enthusiasts with dyed hair in the middle, the cheerleaders on the left. And then there's Lukas and his popular friends gathered together, laughing and teasing each other.

He gulps and realizes he's been standing there for a few seconds like an idiot, staring at Lukas. No wonder everyone believes he's a stalker.

Maybe he'll just spend lunchtime outside today. He'd rather sit outdoors in the cold than risk being picked on.

He looks down at the tray in his hands and weaves his way through the maze of lunch tables, heading towards the exit. He can practically feel people staring at him and burning holes into the back of his skull. It's like he's some sort of dangerous zoo animal on the loose.

Philip's heart thuds like a drum while he passes by Lukas's table. He listens closely as their conversations become muted. They're all staring at him, even Lukas. Especially Lukas.

 _Walk faster_ , Philip tells himself, but it's too late.

One of Lukas's best friends— some guy named Ethan— stands up from his seat and blocks Philip's path. He's tall and muscular and towers above Philip like a giant. He has jet black hair and a jawline that could probably cut Philip's throat, and judging by the look on his face, he wants to do exactly that.

"You're Philip Shea, right?" Ethan asks rhetorically.

Philip looks up slowly like a scared, timid dog. He doesn't answer.

Out of his peripheral, he sees Lukas with an anxious look on his face. His knuckles are white from how hard he's clutching the edge of the table. He wants _so_ badly to stand between them and protect Philip, but he can't. Not yet.

"Ethan, bro, don't—"

"Let him talk, Lukas," Ethan chuckles, never taking his eyes off Philip.

He still doesn't respond. His throat feels swollen shut, preventing him from speaking.

"Listen, kid. I don't know what it's like in the city, but here, it's not okay to stalk people," Ethan says firmly. "Understand?"

Philip bites his bottom lip nervously. "Understood."

"Good," Ethan murmurs.

He looks down at Philip's lunch tray and smirks. Before he can react, he knocks it out of his hands. The plastic tray clatters to the ground loudly, causing the entire cafeteria to stop and stare at them. Hushed gasps and whispers float through the air.

Lukas's mouth drops open. "Dude, what the fuck?"

Ethan ignores him. "Coward," he snorts, giving Philip a harsh once over. "Pissed yourself like a little bitch."

Philip's jaw locks as he looks down at himself. The apple juice had spilled all over the front of his sweatpants, creating a wet patch on his crotch. He can feel the sticky liquid dripping down his leg.

Redness fills his cheeks as students start to laugh around him. His eyes burn with tears. Silently, he shoves past Ethan with his shoulder and rushes out of the cafeteria. He can still hear the laughter buzzing in his ears as he dashes into the nearest bathroom. Thankfully, it's empty.

He locks himself in a stall and starts scrubbing his pants with wadded balls of toilet paper. Warm tears slip down his cheeks, but he barely notices he's crying at all. Lately, crying just seems _normal_. The cheap toilet paper shreds and crumbles in his clenched fist, and it barely soaks up any of the juice.

"Shit," Philip curses to himself. So much for surviving the day without crying.

His phone vibrates in his pocket. He unlocks it with sticky, juice-covered fingers and stares at the new messages glowing on his screen. There's five total, and they're all from Lukas. There's a red heart emoji next to his contact name.

_fuck im so sorry_

_i dont know what to do_

_im sorry  
_

_are you ok?_

_wanna ditch the rest of the day??_

Philip blinks away his tears and types back a reply with trembling hands. _  
_

_Meet me at the tunnel in 15.  
_

The tunnel is tucked behind the school in the woods, hidden away from civilization. It's supposedly the best hookup spot in Red Hook, but it's also convenient for private conversations. Philip covers his crotch with his Spanish textbook and slips out of the bathroom inconspicuously. He stares at the tiled floors while he maneuvers through the labyrinth of empty hallways. Most of the students are in the cafeteria, save for the lonely stragglers and occasional teachers.

Outside, the weather is still cold and gloomy. Stray twigs crunch beneath his shoes as he waits beneath the tunnel, staring up at the concrete ceiling that's coated in graffiti.

Eleven minutes and thirty-two seconds later, Lukas arrives. His dark eyebrows are turned slightly downward, sad and concerned at the same time. He stands at the opposite end of the tunnel and watches Philip with glistening blue eyes. His body is illuminated by the dull sunlight in the background.

"Hey," Lukas says hoarsely.

He steps closer and wraps Philip in his long, lanky arms. He's never been great at expressing his feelings with words, but he wants Philip to know he cares. That he's not going to give up on them. That they'll make this work, someway, somehow.

"I'm sorry," Lukas murmurs against his ear.

Philip pulls back slightly. His eyes are rimmed with red from crying. "It's okay."

"Stop saying it's okay. You're clearly _not_ okay," Lukas rebuttals, rubbing Philip's arm softly.

"It's not your fault, Lukas."

He scoffs. "Yes it is! I should've stood up for you. I should've—"

"It's just a little bit of apple juice. I think I'll survive."

Lukas shakes his head with disbelief. "How are you so calm right now?"

"I witnessed a triple homicide, was kidnapped, and held at gunpoint. This," he says, pointing to the stain on his pants, "is nothing."

Lukas gives a weak smile. Every day, he's blown away by Philip's strength and courage. He never ceases to amaze him.

"I think I wanna come out," he mumbles. "I don't know when and I don't know how, but... soon." 

Philip raises his brows. "Really? I don't want you to feel pressured because of this."

"No, I want to," Lukas assures, caressing his cheek. He nuzzles his nose against Philip's. "I _have_ to. I... can't bare seeing people treat you like shit."

He presses their lips together, pushing Philip against the curved wall of the tunnel. The concrete feels cold against his back, but he doesn't mind. He snakes his arms around Lukas's shoulders and deepens the kiss.

When they finally separate, Philip is staring up at him with a hopeful smile and glossy lips.

"After we come out, I'm gonna kick Ethan's ass," Lukas promises. "Watching him do that to you was fucking torture, man."

Philip smirks. "Protective much?"

He doesn't even try to deny it. "Very."

Philip giggles before kissing him again, laughter echoing in the tunnel.


	5. Jack Daniel's

Lukas stares at his phone as he descends down the staircase, wooden boards creaking under his feet like old bones. He's halfway out the front door when his father clears his throat loudly to make his presence known. Startled, he pauses and glances up to see Bo standing in the living room with his arms crossed over his chest.

It's late, almost eleven o'clock, and the outside world is dark and desolate. Their house is so quiet he can hear the antique grandfather clock ticking in the kitchen and the cicadas singing outdoors. He honestly thought his dad would be asleep by now— he's usually in bed by ten at the latest. And yet here he is, wide awake, eyes as cold as steel.

"Where are you going?" Bo asks, forehead creased with concern.

Lukas gulps. "Out."

"It's a school night," Bo says hesitantly.

"Philip needs me," Lukas argues, and it's the truth.

A few minutes prior, he'd received a text from Philip. It was vague and nonspecific, but it made Lukas jump out of his bed and leave at the snap of his fingers. Perhaps he's whipped, but he doesn't mind one bit.

_You up? Need to see you. Come to the hayloft._

An avalanche of worst case scenarios popped into his head as soon as he read the message. Maybe Philip is all alone, crying, thinking about his dead mother. Maybe he had a bad dream about Ryan. Or maybe he's in real danger.

"I'm sure whatever it is can wait 'til tomorrow," Bo reasons.

Lukas frowns. "Dad, I—"

"Listen, Son, I get it," he begins, clasping his hand on his Lukas's shoulder. "You and this boy experienced a lot of trauma together, and this is your way of coping with it. But I don't want this silly phase to interfere with your schoolwork, okay?"

Lukas falters, eyes blinking with confusion. "What phase?"

Bo's mouth flattens. "This..."

His voice trails off into silence. He closes his lips, looks down at the floor, and clears his throat awkwardly. The words on the tip of his tongue taste sour.

"This gay thing," Bo finishes, spitting it out like poison.

It's like a stab through Lukas's chest. His bottom lip wavers, and he shrugs his dad's hand off his shoulder bitterly. He scrunches his face in frustration.

"Are you serious? I'm not— I'm not dating Philip to _cope_ with anything, Dad."

His dad huffs annoyedly. "Well it's not like you're actually gay, Son."

He's swaying back and forth slightly as he speaks. Behind him, Lukas can see a half empty bottle of Jack Daniel's whiskey resting on the coffee table. He really shouldn't have expected anything less. Ever since his wife passed away, he turns to alcohol as his lord and savior.

When Bo's drunk, he doesn't have a filter. He says whatever he wants and does as he pleases, even if it hurts those around him. When he's sober he can awkwardly avoid talking about Philip and Lukas's sexuality, and that's exactly what he's chosen to do over the past three weeks. Maybe he thinks if he ignores it, it's not real. That it'll just go away.

"Oh, yeah? And how would you know?" Lukas demands.

Bo scowls. "You don't act like it. You love motocross and hunting and camping in the woods, not wearing dresses. And what about Rose?"

"I never loved Rose— at least, not like that."

His father shakes his head disappointingly. "Why do you always gotta be so different?" he asks rhetorically, repeating the same words he said before.

The thing is, Lukas always tried to conceal his uniqueness growing up. He pretended to be the turkey-killing farmer's son Bo always wanted. His dad's approval means the world to him—he's the only family he has. Even though they don't often get along, he wants to make him happy. Wants him to be proud.

"Talk to me when you're sober," Lukas mutters, turning towards the door. "I'm leaving."

Bo grabs him by the collar and pins him up against the nearest wall. The porcelain plates on the shelves above him rattle from the impact. Lukas pinches his eyes shut and clenches his teeth, preparing to feel the sharp slap of his palm colliding with his cheek. He waits in anticipation with his heart racing in his chest.

A few seconds pass by, but nothing happens. Lukas slowly cracks open his eyes to see his father with one arm raised, fist tightened. Veins bulge in his temples and neck, and Lukas can see the anger burning inside his dark pupils, but he doesn't hit him. He can't.

Wordlessly, Lukas shoves at his father's chest and pushes him away. He stumbles backwards and trips over his own feet before regaining his balance, bracing himself on the couch. He watches with a scowl as his son slips out the door. It slams shut behind him.

Lukas quickly climbs on his bike and forces the helmet over his head. He revs the engine a few times before throwing a quick glance over his shoulder. Through the window, he watches his father pour himself another glass of whiskey. His face is red with vexation.

He drives off onto the dirt road, gripping the handlebars so tight his knuckles begin to ache. Tivoli is completely empty around this time of night, allowing him to exceed over the speed limit without getting caught. The wind blows against his face so hard he feels like he can't breathe, although it may just be the lump in his throat.

He turns sharply into Helen and Gabe's driveway and slows down to make his bike quieter. The last thing he needs is to wake them up and start a ruckus. Once he reaches the barn, he plants his feet on the dewy grass and leans his bike against the exterior wall.  The wood paneling is coated in chipped cherry-colored paint. He hooks his helmet on one of the handlebars and ruffles his fingers through his messy hair.

Up above, the sky is a black sheet with paint splatters of bright, twinkling stars. The crescent moon provides a little sliver of white light. Nearby, fireflies float through the tall grasses in a glowing ballet. It's really beautiful, and Lukas wonders if Philip was ever able to see these kinds of things in the city.

He walks into the barn with caution. Scattered hay crunches beneath his muddy converse. "Philip?"

"Up here," he replies from above.

Lukas immediately climbs up the wooden ladder. When he finally reaches the loft, Philip's sitting on one of the hay barrels with a soft smile on his face. He looks adorable. His brown hair is messy and frames his face in careless waves. He's wearing a pair of black joggers that shrink around his ankles and a baseball tee with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"Hey," Lukas chokes out, sitting next to him. The straw feels uncomfortable and pokes him in all the wrong places, but he doesn't bother complaining. "What's wrong?"

Philip pecks his lips reassuringly. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Lukas looks unconvinced. "Did you have another nightmare?"

"No."

"Is it your mom, then?"

"No, Lukas," Philip says, laughing under his breath. "I just missed you."

"You _missed_ me? We just saw each other, like, six hours ago."

He's not complaining, though. He constantly craves Philip like a drug. He's always there in the back of his mind as a persistent reminder of his perfect lips and velvety skin and soft hair. The craving never really goes away.

"I just wanted to see you," Philip says, shrugging nonchalantly.

Lukas punches shoulder playfully. "You're the worst, dude."

Philip's mouth drops open as he rubs his bicep. "What'd I do?"

"I was worried sick!" Lukas defends. "The way you phrased it, I thought— I thought something bad happened to you."

Philip's cheeks turn a little pink. "Sorry. I thought it was kinda obvious."

"Thought _what_ was obvious?"

And oh, God, Philip thinks to himself. He's so oblivious.

He moves over and straddles Lukas's waist without another word, planting his thighs on either side of him. He crashes their lips together and lets his cold fingertips caress the blond boy's slim, chiseled face. Lukas deepens the kiss and swipes his tongue against Philip's lips. He easily complies and lets him take control.

Lukas's hands somehow find their way to Philip's ass. He doesn't let go as if they're just glued there. Eventually, Philip pulls back for a breathless moment and takes off his shirt, tossing it carelessly aside. Lukas can't help but stare at his boyish chest. He loves his hardened nipples and slight abs and the sharpness of his defined hip bones. He could stare at his body all day.

"When I said I needed you," Philip starts, grinding down against Lukas's crotch, "this is what I meant."

He rests his hands on Lukas's strong, broad shoulders and kisses him again. It feels like an electric shock wave through his entire body. Philip hasn't wanted to fool around since Anne passed away which is _completely_ understandable. Frankly, he's perfectly fine with gentle pecks on the lips and soft, reassuring hugs.

But he's missed this. He's missed the feeling of Philip's smooth skin beneath his fingertips, his teeth nibbling on his lips, their hips rocking together in a steady rhythm. With each passing second, his pants feel a little tighter.

He wonders what his dad would think if he knew what he was doing right now. Would he still think it's a phase if he saw him clinging to Philip's body like his life depended on it? Would he still be in denial if he saw them kissing like this, desperate and needy, filled with so much longing and emotion?

Philip draws backwards a little, brows furrowed. He looks up at Lukas with glossy lips and wide doe eyes. "You okay?"

Lukas nods eagerly and squeezes the other boy's hips. "Yeah, of course."

"You just seem a little... distracted," Philip notices. "We can stop if you want."

"No, I'm fine," Lukas lies because the last thing he wants to do is stop.

He nuzzles his face into Philip's neck and starts nibbling on his skin, making him whimper. He tilts his head and allows Lukas to give him a love bite on the side of his throat. His hips are grinding up to meet Philip's, and he can feel the outline of his erection beneath his ass growing stiffer.

"Wait," Philip chokes out, halting his movements.

Lukas looks down at him with bright blue eyes that look like full moons in the darkness. His pale skin feels surprisingly warm as Philip grabs the hem of his t-shirt and pulls up slowly, fingers ghosting over his stomach. Lukas winces a little when he raises his arms, feeling a little pain from the bullet wound, but Philip is gentle with him. He always is.

When his shirt is finally off, Philip goes back to kissing him. He starts at his lips and moves down to his neck, then to his chest, kissing each of his pecs. He even presses a light kiss to his scar. Lukas threads his hands through Philip's soft hair as he lowers his lips even further, hovering above his navel. He sinks onto the floor of the hayloft on his knees and looks up at Lukas, shy and bashful.

"You know how you asked me if I was jealous of Rose 'cause she wanted to blow you?" Philip recalls.

Lukas nods slowly. "Yeah." His voice sounds deeper and raspier than usual.

"I was jealous," Philip admits, touching the hem of Lukas's jeans. He hesitates and looks up for consent. "Want me to?"

Lukas has never wanted anything more in his life. "Yeah, fuck. Of course."

Philip smirks. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans, tugging them down to his ankles. He strokes the outline of his dick through his boxers for a moment, which causes Lukas to moan and throw his head back.

With that, he takes off his boxers. His hard cock is long and slightly curved, and Philip immediately licks his palm and starts jerking him off. Lukas groans and tightens his grip in his hair, but it doesn't hurt. Not in a bad way.

Philip grips the base of his length and lowers his lips to the tip. Lukas looks down at him like he's an angel descended from heaven. He gives a few kitten licks to the head before taking the first inch into his mouth.

"Philip," Lukas says breathlessly. "You're— fuck. So good."

The brunet hums around his shaft while he takes more of him into his mouth, fighting his gag reflex. His nostrils are flaring as he tries to breathe through his nose. It's wet and hot and Lukas never wants it to end. He pulls up for a moment to lick his lips, and then he gives Lukas a seductive look before sinking his lips back down.

He hollows his cheeks and lets his tongue swirl around his girth. Lukas subconsciously starts rocking his hips to meet Philip halfway. He feels his balls tighten as he approaches his orgasm, and he lets out a pleasurable moan that sounds like music to Philip's ears.

He sucks on him for a little while, making sinful noises with his lips. He lets his eyes flutter as he feels Lukas's cock put pressure on the backside of his throat. He makes a quiet choking sound before coming up for air, inhaling, and sinking his mouth back down.

"Close," Lukas warns, making shallow thrusts with his hips.

Philip pulls off and wraps a hand around his dick. He allows him to fuck his fist until he reaches his orgasm, mouth dropping open around the sound of Philip's name. He comes so hard he sees fireworks bursting behind his eyelids.

"Fuck, I— oh my god, Philip," he moans, coming all over Philip's hand.

Philip strokes him through his high. He's breathing heavily and looks completely blissed out, softening cock loose in Philip's fist. His bottom lip is all torn from biting it so hard. His chest slowly rises and falls with each exhale.

"Hey," Philip says, climbing on his lap again. He leans over to grab a discarded dirty work rag and wipes off his hands before gripping Lukas's shoulders. "So, was it good?"

Lukas drops a grateful kiss on his lips. "Amazing."

Philip smiles with pride. He kisses him deeper, a little more rushed, and Lukas realizes Philip's still as hard as a rock and hasn't come yet. He decides to be brave and starts palming Philip through his joggers. He whimpers against his lips.

"Lukas," he whines, and Lukas wants to replay those two syllables in his mind for the rest of his life on repeat.

Okay, he thinks. He can do this. It's just like jacking off, right? Just— with someone else's dick instead. Another guy's dick. Philip's dick.

Philip pushes down his joggers a little and— surprise. He isn't wearing anything underneath. Lukas just gulps and grips Philip's erection in his fist. He strokes him while Philip burrows his face into his neck and mewls in pleasure. It doesn't take long before his hips stutter and he's cursing under his breath, coming all over his tummy and Lukas's hand.

Afterwards, he practically collapses against Lukas's chest while the blond strokes his back lovingly, tracing random patterns on his skin. He feels so sleepy. If it wasn't for the uncomfortable straw beneath them, he could probably fall asleep.

They stay like that for a few minutes, wrapped up in each other's arms. It's peaceful. Outside, the world is alive with cicadas and chirping crickets and owls hooting in the night.

"Don't fall asleep on me," Lukas warns, kissing the top of his head. "I gotta be back home by the time my dad wakes up or he'll kill me."

Philip smiles against his neck. He hugs him a little tighter. "You can just stay here forever. With me."

Lukas's body stiffens beneath him. "I'm serious, Philip."

He nudges Philip off his lap and pulls up his boxers and jeans, buttoning and zipping them in a hurry. He slips his shirt over his head and picks off the pieces of straw stuck to the fabric.

The brown-eyed boy looks back at him with confusion. "Why are you in a rush all of a sudden?"

Lukas's lips flatten. "It's nothing."

"Well it's obviously _something_."

"I just don't wanna piss off my dad even more than I already have."

Philip quirks an eyebrow. "What do you mean? Did you two get in a fight?"

Lukas doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. Philip already knows the answer, judging by the saddened look on his face.

"What happened?" Philip presses.

He doesn't respond, gaze dropping to the floor of the hayloft. Philip slowly lifts up Lukas's chin. His eyes are a little watery, but he tries to blink it away.

"You can tell me, Lukas."

"I can't— I can't cry around you like a bitch," Lukas grumbles, scrubbing his eyes with his knuckles. "Your mom just died and I'm sitting here whining about my dad."

Philip's throat bobs. "You're allowed to be upset, Lukas. Tell me."

Lukas frowns and takes a deep breath. "Earlier tonight, my dad caught me trying to sneak out to come see you. He was drunk and y'know what they say. Drunk words are sober thoughts, or whatever."

"What'd he say?"

"That he doesn't believe I'm actually gay. He thinks it's just a phase I'm going through to try to cope with all the trauma," he murmurs. "But whatever, I don't care what he thinks."

It's a lie. If Lukas didn't care about his father's opinions, he wouldn't have spent seventeen years pretending to be somebody he's not. Seventeen years of keeping his emotions bottled up.

"My dad doesn't know shit, anyway," Lukas continues. "I totally had a crush on Ken Roczen growing up."

Philip furrows his brows. "Who?"

"A famous motocross racer."

He snorts. "Right. I should've known."

Lukas smiles sheepishly and pulls Philip closer for a kiss. It's short and sweet.

"Listen," Philip says quietly, leaning back a bit. He keeps his arms wrapped around Lukas's waist. "You know what you said in the tunnel this afternoon about coming out?"

Lukas nods. Of course he remembers.

"If you changed your mind and wanna wait to come out, that's okay. I won't be disappointed or anything," Philip tells him.

Lukas knows he has a point. He can't even handle his own father's drunken comments about his sexuality, let alone the entire school's. Maybe he's not ready after all. The very thought of coming out makes his stomach twist in knots.

"I'm sorry," Lukas apologizes weakly.

Philip just shakes his head and hugs him. "Don't be. We'll wait 'til you're ready," he mumbles against his chest.

Lukas lets out a slow, steady breath. Philip's arms are like a safety blanket. He kisses his forehead gently.

"We'll come out eventually, okay? I promise. It'll happen someday," Lukas promises, both to Philip and himself.

"Someday," Philip echoes quietly.

"I should go," Lukas mutters, fingertips brushing through his hair. "Goodnight. Thank you for... everything."

"Goodnight, Lukas."

Philip watches fondly while he climbs down the hayloft ladder. As he drives away on his bike, he can't help but wonder if that hypothetical _someday_ will ever really come.


	6. Table for Two

"You're awful at this," Lukas laughs, watching amusedly as Philip fails to kill the green-skinned zombie on the screen. He cluelessly bashes random buttons on the Xbox controller. Pixelated blood splatters across the large television on Lukas's wall, making Philip jump a little and curse under his breath.

    They're both sitting on giant bean bag chairs, and Philip has his legs draped casually over Lukas's lap. He pouts his bottom lip and angrily tosses the controller aside. Lukas can't help but laugh again.

    "You're cute when you're frustrated," Lukas coos, smiling fondly.

    Philip rolls his eyes. "You're stupid."

    "You're just angry 'cause you suck at videogames."

    "It's not my fault! Your controller must be broken or something."

    Lukas hums. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, dude."

    Philip scoffs and playfully punches his shoulder. "I hate you."

    Lukas just smirks and wraps his arms around the smaller boy, pulling him against his warm chest. Philip tucks his head into the crook of his neck and pouts against his skin. Lukas threads his hands through his soft brunet hair, absentmindedly twirling the loose chocolate waves around his fingers. In a matter of seconds, the playful pout on his lips turns into a sleepy smile.

"It's getting late," Lukas muses, glancing out the nearby window.

The sun is starting to disappear into the distant horizon. The sky looks like a canvas of pink and orange brush strokes. The rolling fields of the Waldenbeck farm seem endless from here, as if they span for miles and miles to the edge of the earth.

Philip makes a sound of discontent in the back of his throat. He shifts around to look out the window, but Lukas keeps his arm draped across his shoulder. The blue bean bag crinkles beneath his weight.

"Wanna stay the night with you and look at the stars," Philip sighs quietly, eyes twinkling. "It's so nice out here, y'know? No light pollution like the city."

Lukas bites his lip hesitantly. "Philip—"

"I know, I know. I have to leave before your dad gets home from work. I'm not supposed to be here," Philip mumbles, picking at his bitten nails to distract himself.

"I'm sorry."

Philip shrugs nonchalantly as if it doesn't matter. As if he, too, doesn't care about Bo's approval. "Whatever. It's not your fault your dad hates me."

"He doesn't _hate_ you."

Philip laughs humorlessly. "Right." His voice is drenched in sarcasm.

Lukas rests his hand on Philip's arm, feeling the warmth of his soft skin beneath his calloused palm. "I'm serious, man. He doesn't hate you."

"So he just hates _us_ , right?" he asks, furrowing his brows. The faded scar on his forehead deepens. "He hates the fact that we're together."

Lukas pauses and rolls his tongue over his chapped lips. "He'll get over it, okay? You just gotta give him time to adjust."

Philip frowns. "It's been almost a month since he found out about us. He's had time."

"My dad's old-fashioned, alright? Just... be patient. Please." He lightly kisses Philip's knuckles, and it makes his heart flutter rapidly like hummingbird wings.

The brown-eyed boy looks up at his boyfriend with a soft, vulnerable expression. It's getting late, and he knows he'll have to leave soon. It's inevitable.

Warm light seeps through the window and illuminates Lukas's pale skin. An orange glow lights up inside of his dark pupils. The warmth of his body pressed against him feels like home, and he wants nothing more than to stay here with him for eternity.

But unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

"Can you drive me back to Helen and Gabe's?" Philip asks shyly.

Lukas smiles apologetically. "Sure, of course."

The blond grabs his hand loosely and guides him downstairs. He walks outside, and the brisk air of evening makes Philip cross his arms over his chest, teeth clenched. They put on their helmets and start driving towards Philip's foster home. He keeps a firm grip on Lukas's waist and rests his chin on his shoulder. The roar of the engine blocks out the rest of the world, leaving them in their own personal bubble of safety.

When they reach Helen and Gabe's house, Lukas stops his bike and plants his feet on the damp earth. Philip climbs off, hands Lukas his spare helmet, and brushes his fingers through his messy hair.

Lukas takes off his own helmet and looks up at Philip with concern. "I'll see you tomorrow at school, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," Philip murmurs, digging the toe of his boot into the ground to avoid Lukas's gaze.

He frowns. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just— school hasn't exactly been great for me lately," Philip explains, laughing awkwardly.

The past few days have been difficult, for lack of a better word. Philip's lost track of the number of times someone has "accidentally" tripped him in the hallway. There's always a constant murmur of whispers behind his back, interlaced with the word "stalker" and various homophobic slurs. He knows Lukas wants to defend him, but it's not easy when he's still in the closet and the entire school thinks they're enemies. 

"I'm sorry about Ethan, okay? He's an asshole."

"It's not just Ethan," Philip huffs. 

Lukas stands up from his bike and tucks his hands in his pockets, feeling ashamed. Philip should be with someone fearless— someone who isn't afraid to come out. Someone who doesn't care about the meaningless opinions of others. Someone who can proudly hold his hand, completely unashamed of their relationship.

But instead, he chose Lukas, whose confidence is about as brittle as paper-thin glass.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, voice soft.

Philip averts his eyes and swallows the lump in his throat. "I just— seeing you is always the best part of my day, Lukas. I wish we could spend more time together."

Lukas shakes his head confusedly. "We hang out all the time."

"Yeah, but not in public."

The blond presses his lips together, unable to come up with a response. He just bites the inside of his cheek and gives Philip an apologetic frown. A few seconds of silence pass between them, and Philip can practically see the guilt growing on his face. The last thing he wants is for Lukas to feel guilty, so he decides to change the topic.

"Hey, are we gonna hang out again soon?" Philip asks quietly, clasping his hand on Lukas's firm bicep. "Because I'd like a rematch on that zombie game."

Lukas gives an airy laugh. "You're on, dude."

Philip smiles weakly and stands on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Lukas's broad shoulders, pulling him in for a tight hug. He grins against his chest and smells the soothing scent of his cologne and lingering body wash. It calms his rattled nerves in an instant. Lukas instinctively curls his arms around Philip's waist.

When he withdrawals, Lukas has a small smirk on his thin, pink lips. Philip looks up at him suspiciously with a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just got an idea."

And that's never a good sign. Lukas is always full of bad ideas.

"Have you ever been camping?" Lukas asks curiously.

Philip shakes his head. "No. I mean, one summer my mom saved up enough money to send me to Camp Pinesworth upstate, but I only lasted three days before I got homesick and quit."

Lukas's eyes light up with excitement. "It's settled, then. We're going camping this weekend."

Philip scoffs. "What?"

"Just you, me, and a tent," Lukas hums, resting his palms on Philip's shoulders, squeezing lightly for emphasis.

"Absolutely not," Philip laughs at the suggestion, shrugging Lukas off.

He begins to turn away, but Lukas grabs his elbow and pulls him back. A pout settles on his mouth, and he tilts his head a little like a begging puppy.

"Please?" he asks politely. "I go camping all the time with my dad. I know the perfect spot, okay? Trust me. It'll be fun."

Philip looks unconvinced. "But—"

"You said so yourself that you wanna go stargazing together," Lukas reminds him.

Philip stares at him for a few seconds, debating the pros and cons, and eventually gives a tired sigh. He can never say no to Lukas.

"Okay," he exhales slowly. "But only if you promise to protect me from bears and rabid raccoons."

Lukas chuckles. "I promise."

He drops a chaste kiss on Philip's lips. It's short and sweet, and it leaves Philip with a faint blush on his cheeks.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow morning for school, yeah?" Lukas asks, climbing on his bike. His voice is slightly muffled by his helmet. "We'll leave Friday night to go camping."

Philip rocks back on his heels and nods. "Yeah, sounds good."

Lukas smiles widely before speeding down the gravel driveway, creating a cloud of brown dust behind him. Philip stands there and listens to the roar of his engine until it fades into silence, leaving nothing but the chirps of birds and the whistle of the wind against his ears.

Sighing, the brunet walks into his foster house with his backpack slung over his shoulder. The air feels a little warmer inside and smells like vanilla candles. He instinctively migrates to the kitchen where Gabe is starting to prepare dinner. He cuts up slices of chicken on a white cutting board with a large, sharp knife.

Philip drops his heavy backpack on one of the bar stools, causing Gabe to glance up at him. He pauses with the knife between his fingers. "Oh, hey. How was school?" he asks, soft smile on his pale lips.

Philip just shrugs and grabs a red apple from the fridge. He takes a large bite, chews for a moment, and swallows. "Boring."

"Don't spoil your appetite. I'm making fajitas," Gabe explains.

Philip peers over his foster dad's shoulder, noticing the small amount of chicken on the cutting board. "Are you sure that's enough for the three of us?" he asks curiously.

Gabe's smile flattens. "Actually, it's just gonna be the two of us tonight. Helen just called— she's staying late to work on a case."

Philip takes another bite of his apple and furrows his eyebrows. "Sounds serious."

Gabe doesn't reply. He just continues to slice the chicken breast into smaller, thinner strips. His jaw tightens a little.

"Wanna do me a favor and set the table?" Gabe asks, nodding towards the cupboards.

Philip just nods and tosses out his apple core in the garbage bin. Then, he grabs the plates and cutlery and sets the table for two.

°°°

After dinner, as Philip loads the dirty dishes into the sink, he decides to ask about the camping escapade. He wipes his wet, soap-covered palms on his jeans and clears his throat, attracting Gabe's attention.

"So, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something," he prompts delicately, leaning against the counter.

"Of course, Son. What is it?"

Philip toys with the hem of his t-shirt absentmindedly. "Well, I was wondering if I could go camping this weekend with Lukas."

Gabe raises an eyebrow. "Alone? I don't think that's a good idea, Philip."

Philip bites his lip. "No, I— it wouldn't just be the two of us. Our other friends from school are coming, too... and Bo," he lies. 

Gabe nods contemplatively. "Well, I suppose I don't see why that would be a problem as long as there's adult supervision."

Philip's smile widens. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, Son. It's good to see you getting out more after... everything you've been through," Gabe says slowly, as if trying to avoid saying the wrong thing.

A little bit of guilt tugs at Philip's stomach. He hates lying to his foster parents, but it's like an instinct he can't control. He's a compulsive liar. He lies to protect himself. He lies to get what he wants. That's just how he is, and no matter how hard he tries, he can't stop it.

When he finishes washing the dishes, Philip goes upstairs to his room and collapses on his bed. The mattress bounces beneath him. He pulls out his phone and calls Lukas. It rings three times before he answers.

"Hey, Shea," Lukas says in a raspy voice, and then he giggles a little, muffling the speaker. Philip imagines the cute smile on his face. "That rhymed."

Philip snickers and rolls his eyes. "Hey."

"What's up?"

"I talked to Gabe about going camping this weekend," Philip murmurs, crossing his ankles at the end of his bed. 

"Really? What'd he say?"

"That he's cool with it," Philip says, deciding not to explain how he had to lie in order to get his approval. 

"Your foster parents are awesome, man," Lukas says fondly. 

Philip hums in agreement. "Yeah."

They stay up late talking on the phone until 11:09, when Philip hears Helen's jeep roll into the driveway. Through his window, he sees the brightness of her headlights shining in the darkness. He quickly mumbles something to Lukas about feeling tired and needing sleep. 

"Goodnight, Philip," Lukas utters. 

"Goodnight," the brunet echoes. 

There's a non-verbal _I love you_  tacked to the end of that phrase. Neither of them have the courage to say it out loud, consciously, but he supposes it's just a mutual understanding between them. Deep down, he wonders if Lukas can remember the first time Philip said those three words in the hospital while he was in a coma. Maybe he does, but he's too afraid or freaked out to bring it up. 

He hangs up his phone before curling under his warm blankets. He tugs Anne's old quilt up to his chin and inhales the soothing scent. He flips over onto his side to face the window, looking up at the stars in the black sky.  

He falls asleep to the sound of Helen and Gabe arguing in the room across the hall, voices muted through the walls. 


	7. Enjoying the View

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Bill Paxton, James's father and an incredibly talented actor. Please keep the Paxton family in your thoughts during this very difficult time. Bill was taken from this world far too soon, and he will be deeply missed. Rest in peace. x

Lukas is helping Bo feed the turkeys when he decides to bring it up. The large birds surround the blond as he sets down a bucket full of dry, brown pellets. He's secretly named most of the turkeys even though they have numbered tags strapped to their ankles. His favorite one is called Nemo, number 294, because his left wing is slightly smaller than the other. 

Bo refills one of the plastic watering founts with a green hose, sweat forming on his forehead. Afterwards, he shuts off the valve and wipes his face with a handkerchief.

Lukas hesitates before saying, "Hey, Dad?"

Bo grunts in response, busy unscrewing the hose from the spout. It squeaks audibly over the gobbling turkeys.

"So, it's Jacob's birthday this Saturday," he lies, watching the large birds peck at the food pellets competitively.

Lukas is pretty sure his dad doesn't know the names of half his friends, nor does he care about his social life, but Bo would _never_ consent to allowing Lukas to go camping with Philip alone. At this point, he's pretty much an expert at lying. He pretended to be straight for his entire life and kept the triple homicide a secret for several weeks; he's pretty sure he can handle a little fib about his weekend plans.

"Is it?" Bo says distractedly.

"Yeah," Lukas answers with a nod. "He invited a me to go camping up at Kaaterskill with a few of our friends to celebrate. I know there's a lot of work to be done around the farm, but—"

"That's fine, Son," he replies, surprisingly eager. 

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'm actually relieved to see you hanging out with..." he says, voice fading into silence. His posture turns tense as he shakes his head to himself and starts coiling the hose around the hook in the wall. 

Lukas raises an eyebrow. "With?"

His dad clears his throat uncomfortably. "Y'know, your friends from school," he grumbles.

Lukas huffs annoyingly. "You mean someone other than Philip?" 

Bo's lips flatten. "That's not what I meant, Son." 

"Sure, Dad," he murmurs before grabbing another heavy bag of turkey feed. He cuts it open with his pocket knife and begins to fill one of the feeders.

And that's the end of the conversation.

°°°

Philip has the window rolled down with his arm outstretched, feeling the warm air and sunlight against his skin as they drive on the county road. Lukas grips the steering wheel with one hand and keeps his other arm draped across Philip's shoulders. Through the speakers, their playlist plays on repeat from a burned CD, which Philip kindly labeled "Us" with a black permanent marker. 

Outside, the world flashes by in a blur of green pine trees and blue skies. The road is a bit bumpy, the yellow lines are faded, and they haven't seen another car in nearly a mile. It's peaceful and, after all they've been through, exactly what they need— little bit of calm after the storm. 

Philip can see his own reflection in the plastic lenses of Lukas's sunglasses. He smiles at him softly and watches his blond hair rustle in the wind. He hums along to Cage The Elephant's "Trouble" and bobs his head to the lyrics, eyes focused on the road. 

"I can't believe your dad lent you his truck," Philip muses, scoffing with skepticism. 

"He has three of them." Lukas says it like it's no big deal. 

Philip's eyes widen. "Fuck."

"What?"

"Nothing. I just suddenly realized I'm dating a spoiled rich kid who gets $100 for his weekly allowance. Does this make me a gold digger?"

Lukas shakes his head and playfully punches his shoulder. Philip laughs and rubs his bicep painfully, giving the blond a firm glare.

"Hey, focus on the road, asshole."

"Then stop being an idiot," he bites back, smiling through the insult. 

Philip laughs and rolls his eyes. "Seriously, though. How'd you convince your dad to let you borrow one of his trucks?"

"I just told him I was going camping with my friends from school," he explains. 

"You lied to your dad?" Philip asks, pretending to gasp. "I didn't know you were such a rebel."

Lukas chuckles. "Oh, please. I'm sure you had to lie to Helen and Gabe."

Philip crosses his arms over his chest. "What makes you say that? I'm a well-behaved foster child, thank you very much."

Lukas gives him a quick glance of doubtfulness. "Helen won't even let you shut your door when we're hanging out; I doubt she'd let us go camping together _alone_." 

Philip blushes a little and fiddles with the hem of his t-shirt, eyes focused in his lap. "I may have told them that we were going with friends... and that we'd have parental supervision." 

Lukas smirks. "I've corrupted you, Philip Shea."

"I'm from the city; I was corrupted long before I met you." 

The taller boy laughs and switches on his turning signal, curving down a gravel road. It's shaded by tall trees on both sides of the narrow stretch of dirt and stone. Ahead, there's a wooden sign that reads "North Lake Campground" as well as a map of the  many trails throughout the park.

When they finally reach their campsite, Philip immediately applies a thorough layer of insect repellent. They're surrounded by gnats and mosquitoes. They swarm around them obsessively and circle their heads, buzzing in their ears.

Their campsite is small and cute, secluded in a section of tall conifers. They have a nice view of the lake in the distance— a  sliver of blue beneath a plethora of green. The earth beneath them is soft and plush and covered in thick grass. They also have a wooden picnic table and a campfire ring, perfect for roasting marshmallows. 

Lukas grabs their tent from the bed of the truck and unzips the nylon bag. It's a tiny tent made to fit two people, giving them the perfect amount of space to cuddle. He removes the collapsible metal poles and begins to unfold them.

Philip watches him fondly from the picnic table, hand pressed against his chin. He has a cute smile on his face and a loving look in his chestnut eyes. He takes out his phone and snaps a photo Lukas, who stares back at him with a blank expression.

"Are you just gonna sit there and look pretty or help me set up our tent?" Lukas asks, tilting his head. 

Philip props up his legs on the wooden bench and sighs. "I'd rather just watch. The view's quite nice." 

Lukas tries to hide his smile as he ducks his head, cheeks tinting pink. He unravels the blue tent and spreads it across the ground, flattening the wrinkles with his palm. Then, he proceeds to form the skeleton of the tent with the bendable poles. Philip stares at him with admiration.

"You're good at this," Philip notes, watching as Lukas manages to set up the tent in less than five minutes. 

It's fairly small but perfect nonetheless, formed into a dome shape. The fly trap offers a little bit of shade from the bright sunlight. The front entrance zipper is a little sticky and takes some effort to open, but it'll have to suffice.

Philip immediately crawls inside, fabric crinkling audibly beneath him. Lukas follows suit and lays down next to him on top of the cold, firm ground. The tent offers a bit of relief from the burning sunlight and humidity. Lukas tucks his arm under his neck as a makeshift pillow and stares up at the ceiling where the tent's poles intersect.

"My dad and I go camping here all the time," Lukas says quietly. "It's cool up here, dude. Really secluded, y'know?" 

Philip nods slowly, looking through the open fabric door that rustles in the wind. It's truly beautiful. Birds putter throughout the park in search of food and trees to perch upon. A variety of flora surrounds their tent in a collage of green.

"Why'd you want to come here with me?" Philip asks, turning his face slightly. 

Lukas bites his lip. "I dunno. I figured it'd be nice to get out of Tivoli and... not have to worry about keeping this shit a secret." He holds Philip's hands gently, brushing his thumb over his knuckles.

Philip smiles and pecks his cheek. "That's sweet."

Lukas bobs his shoulders in a silent laugh. "Sure, whatever," he mumbles dismissively.

Philip hums and turns onto his side, clinging to Lukas like a koala. He nuzzles his nose into the crook of his neck and smiles against his skin. They lay like this for a minute or so, just enjoying the silence and the shade the tent provides. 

Eventually, Philip flips onto his back and lets out a heavy sigh. "So, what do we do now?"

The corners of Lukas's lips quirk up. "Wanna go hiking?"

"Hiking?" Philip repeats as if it's foreign to his vocabulary.

"Yeah," Lukas says excitedly, propping himself up on his elbow. "There's this really awesome trail nearby that goes to a waterfall."

"How long is it?"

"Only two miles."

Philip's eyes widen. " _Only_ two miles?" he scoffs. "I think we have two very different definitions of 'only,' Lukas."

"C'mon, city boy. It'll be fun."

The blond grabs Philip's hand and pulls him out of the tent. Reluctantly, he follows Lukas to the nearby trail that weaves between the trees like a snake. They walk together side by side, accidentally bumping shoulders every now and then. Philip continuously waves his hand around to swat away swarming flies.

The dirt path is littered with boot imprints and animal tracks. Each time they come across the print of a deer hoof or coyote paw, Lukas stops to tell Philip which creature it belongs to. He's been hunting for as long as he's been able to hold a gun, so he's pretty much an expert at identifying animal spoors.

About half a mile down the trail, they come across a narrow stream. In order to cross it, they have to walk over a fallen log that's covered in thick, green moss. Lukas instantly walks across it with ease, planting his feet on the other side of the shallow, flowing creek. Philip stares back at him with a hesitant look on his face.

"I'll fall on my ass," Philip warns.

Lukas snorts. "Stop being so dramatic."

The taller boy outstretches his arm to hold Philip's hand. Carefully, he guides him across the log and keeps him steady. When he reaches the other side of the creek, he sighs in relief and tightens his grip on Lukas's shoulders.

"Thanks," he says quietly.

He actually looks a little shaken up, and it catches Lukas off guard. He suddenly remembers what Philip once said about his fear of water. He never explained the reason behind his phobia, but Lukas figures it must be pretty traumatic. Even the sight of a small, narrow creek makes his body tremble with nervousness.

Lukas bites his lip. "You okay, man?"

Philip glances back at the stream, swallows hard, and nods. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Lukas grips his hand again, lacing their fingers together. He swings their arms back and forth as they continue to walk down the trail. Philip looks back at him with a quirked eyebrow.

"You're holding my hand," he notes blatantly.

"Yeah, so?"

"I'm just... surprised. What if someone sees us?"

"What? Like a squirrel?" Lukas asks, mocking Philip's words from the first time they kissed in his father's cabin.

"You're ridiculous."

Lukas doesn't even try to deny it. He just squeezes Philip's hand a little tighter and continues walking down the path.

When they finally reach the waterfall, they climb up some wooden stairs to a platform outlook. The waterfall is tall and beautiful, pouring crystal clear water off the edge of a cliff. There are countless names and symbols engraved into the wooden platform, some faded with age, others seemingly new.

Philip takes dozens of pictures and braces his hands on the railing. Judging by the way his knuckles turn white, Lukas can tell he's anxious by the sight of water plunging 200 feet into a large creek.

Lukas rests his hand on the small of his back. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asks curiously.

Philip looks at him with a small, tight smile. "I think so," he says, surprisingly calm. "Let's just enjoy the view."


	8. Nightmares

The orange glow from the lantern illuminates the tent with warm light. Outside, the sounds of nearby campfires crackling and crickets chirping fill the atmosphere. It's peaceful. Relaxed— which is something Philip hasn't felt in a long time. Distantly, he can hear the lake lapping softly against the sandy shore.

Lukas is sitting in front of him, cross-legged, holding playing cards in his hands. He's wearing plaid pajama bottoms that ride low on his hips and an old t-shirt that's probably one size too large. The light from the lantern carves shadows into his sharp cheekbones and defined jawline.

"Got any eight's?" Lukas asks, eyebrows raised.

Philip scans over his cards and shakes his head. "Go fish."

"Damn it," Lukas mutters under his breath, grabbing another card from the deck.

Philip just giggles.

"Got any two's, Luka?" he prompts.

Lukas sighs. "Yeah," he grumbles, tossing the two of diamonds at Philip's face.

It hits his cheek before falling on the sleeping bag beneath them. They both laugh, and Philip is pretty sure their camping neighbors can hear them, but at the moment he doesn't care.

"This is fun," Philip says fondly, grabbing another piece of beef jerky from the bag on the floor. He chews for a long moment, and Lukas thinks he looks like a chipmunk with stuffed cheeks. It's kind of cute.

"Go Fish isn't the most enthralling game in the word," Lukas argues.

Philip rolls his eyes. "No, I mean— just being with you. Here. Alone. It's fun."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, city boy," Lukas teases.

"I am. It's nice to get away from Tivoli after..." He waves his hand dismissively, deciding not to finish that sentence. It doesn't need to be said. They both know.

Lukas smiles. "We don't ever have to go back, if you don't want to. We could run away to Mexico or something. Elope together."

Philip scoffs. "Yeah, right. Helen would have the entire FBI looking for me in a matter of hours."

The blond shrugs. "She's just protective because she cares about you, y'know. You can't blame her."

"I know," Philip assures.

After a moment, Lukas sets his playing cards aside and scoots closer to Philip. He cups his soft cheeks between his rough, calloused palms and kisses him gently. Philip smiles against his lips and settles his hands on his hips, letting his cards scatter on the ground. He bites down on Lukas's lip a little.

"What about the game?" Philip teases against his mouth.

Lukas smirks. "We both know you were gonna win anyway," he assures. "You always do."

Philip giggles and lets Lukas guide him. He lays on top of his sleeping bag, slow and comfortable, with Lukas hovering over him. He connects their lips again and plants his hands on either side of Philip's head. He's missed this— having Lukas over him, looking down on him, kissing him from above like he's some kind of divine being.

"Wait," Philip huffs, breaking the kiss for a moment. "Are you feeling okay? Can you support your own weight now?"

Lukas smiles widely and pecks his lips with reassurance. "I'm fine, babe."

"Okay," Philip exhales, a little relieved.

He brushes his hand over Lukas's pec and feels the faint outline of his bandage. His bullet wound hasn't fully healed, and there will most likely always be a scar there, but the pain isn't as intense anymore. Now it's a constant dull ache in his chest, and it's difficult to distinguish if it's physical pain or the pain of being in love. Maybe it's a little bit of both.

After a few long, drawn-out minutes of making out, Lukas rolls over next to Philip and wraps his arms around his waist. The thick sleeping bags provide them with plenty of warmth and comfort. Lukas nuzzles his face into the crook of his neck and presses a soft kiss to the mole above his collarbone.

"Y'know what's interesting?" Lukas says, eyes fluttering slowly and lethargically. "Ever since the whole Ryan Kane thing, I've had nightmares. Nightmares about him holding a gun against your temple, ready to pull the trigger, and I'm just frozen in my tracks. I can't do anything to save you, and then he kills you. Sometimes the nightmares are about me dying. Sometimes they're about both of us dying."

Philip gulps. He looks up to meet Lukas's eyes, and they almost look white in the pale moonlight.

"That sounds... scary."

"But when I'm with you," Lukas says slowly, squeezing Philip's hand, "the nightmares go away."

Philip smiles and kisses his cheek. His pale skin feels like ice beneath his lips. "I don't have scary dreams when I'm with you, either," he admits.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Savage," Lukas grins.

Philip laughs and slaps his arm playfully before Lukas climbs on top of him again, kissing him senselessly.

°°°

The next day, they were supposed to go on the campground's nature boardwalk. It's a beautiful boardwalk that carves through the swamp and dense woods. Despite the annoying mosquitos and gnats, Lukas always liked that nature trail as a kid. There were lots of pretty flowers and gnarled trees that tangled together like knots. Lukas thought Philip would like it— the beautiful scenery. It's a novice photographer's dreamland.

Instead, they wake up the next morning to the sound of Helen yelling various profanities and their tent zipping open. Philip almost has a heart attack. He sits up like a jack-in-the-box springing to life, clutching the sleeping bag against his bare chest.

Lukas is startled, too, and makes a sleepy sound of confusion in the back of his throat.

"Jesus, Philip," Helen curses, shaking her head.

She looks angry. She's wearing her sherif uniform, complete with the black hat that sits crookedly on her head. Her boots are muddy from the campground's dirty terrain.

"Helen?" he croaks. "What are you doing here?"

"You wouldn't answer your phone, so I called Bo, who was _supposed_ to be with you as a supervising adult," she says with exasperation. She gives the blond boy a disapproving frown. "He said Lukas told him he was going camping with friends."

Philip bites his lip. "I— I don't have cellphone service here, Helen. We're in the middle of nowhere."

Helen scoffs. "That's not the point, Philip! You lied to me."

Lukas frowns. "Mrs. Torrence, I—"

"And _you_ ," Helen interrupts, pointing a finger at Lukas, "lied to your dad. You're not getting off the hook, either."

Lukas's expression contorts into fear. His face becomes even paler, which Philip didn't think was even possible.

"Shit, is he here?" Lukas asks worriedly.

"He's on his way. You're both in a lot of trouble," Helen promises. "C'mon, Philip. We're leaving."

Philip's mouth gapes open. "Helen—"

"I don't want to hear any excuses—"

"You wouldn't have let me go camping if I'd told you the truth!"

She laughs dryly. "Of course not! I'm your foster mother, Philip. I'm supposed to protect you. What do you think CPS would say if they knew I let two minors go camping by themselves?"

"But—"

"CPS is already threatening to take you away from me, Philip!" Helen nearly screams, and Lukas is pretty sure she just awoke everyone else in the campground. "I'm trying to prevent that from happening, God forbid, but you're making it very difficult."

Philip's mouth shuts. A beat of silence passes between them.

"CPS wants to take me away?" he says quietly.

Helen's jaw sets tightly, as if she didn't mean to say that out loud. A look of regret washes over her face. "We'll talk about this in the car," she grumbles. "C'mon, Philip. Let's go."

Philip frowns and sits up. He throws on a discarded t-shirt (it's Lukas's) and climbs out of the tent. He manages to give Lukas an apologetic smile before following Helen to her Jeep, feeling dread settling deep in his stomach.

The drive back to Tivoli is relatively quiet. Helen rolls down the windows and keeps her grip on the steering wheel tight, turning her knuckles white. Philip just stares out the window and watches the trees zoom by, morphing together into a swirl of green.

"I'm sorry," Philip croaks after a few minutes. "About lying."

Helen inhales sharply and exhales. "I'm just trying to protect you, Philip."

"I know."

"After what happened—"

"I know, Helen."

She bites her bottom lip. "CPS found out about... everything. With Ryan," she spits out quickly, as if the words are poison on her tongue. "I got a call the other day saying my fostering abilities are under investigation, whatever that means."

Philip frowns. The thought of leaving Tivoli— of leaving Helen and Gabe and _Lukas_ — makes his chest ache.

"But that's not fair; everything that happened with Ryan wasn't your fault."

"I know that, Philip, but it still looks bad on my part. Very bad."

"So what? They're gonna relocate me to another family in Tivoli?"

"Not in Tivoli," Helen says, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. "Probably a group home in the city."

Philip feels his eyes burning with tears, so he quickly wipes them away with the back of his hand. He doesn't want to cry, but he can't leave Tivoli. He just can't.

"It's not confirmed yet, Philip," Helen assures, noticing his distress in her peripheral vision. "It's just a potential possibility."

Philip swallows the painful lump in his throat. "I don't want to leave you and Gabe. You're... family."

"And we don't want you to leave us either, Philip. That's why we need you to be on your best behavior, okay? If CPS somehow found out you were camping alone with Lukas without parental supervision—"

"We're both 17, not 7."

"You're still children," Helen argues. "I just... need you to behave yourself. Please. No more lying or skipping classes or getting yourself in trouble."

Philip just nods slowly. "Okay."

Helen flips on her turning signal as they approach a stoplight. The sound of the radio's static fills the tense atmosphere.

"I'm sorry," Philip mumbles.

He doesn't know what he's apologizing for, exactly. For everything. For being a bad foster kid. For being in the cabin that night with Lukas. For lying to her and going camping alone.

"I know you are," Helen sighs quietly.

And that's it.

°°°

Later that night, Philip is on the phone with Lukas, lying on his bed. He's staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling with one hand on his bare tummy, the other holding his phone against his ear.

"So, how long are you grounded for?" Philip asks slowly.

"Two weeks. Not allowed to leave the house except for school."

Philip laughs humorlessly. "Lucky. I got three weeks _plus_ I have to help Gabe clean out the barn next weekend."

Lukas rustles with his phone a little. "That sucks."

"Yeah," Philip says passively. "I'm sorry about Helen getting you in trouble."

"S'not your fault."

"I know, but I'm still sorry."

"I don't care about being grounded, Philip," Lukas admits. "I'm more concerned about what Helen said about CPS threatening to take you away."

"They won't."

"How do you know for sure?"

"I don't."

Lukas goes quiet for a few seconds. "You can't— you can't leave me, Philip." His voice sounds broken, and it makes Philip's heart ache a little.

"I don't want to, Lukas."

Lukas sighs deeply, muffling the speaker. "But if... if you do leave Tivoli, will we still—"

"Fuck, Lukas, no. We won't break up."

Lukas lets out a soft exhale of relief. "Okay, good."

"You can't get rid of me that easily," Philip teases, and he wants nothing more than to thread his fingers through Lukas's blond hair. Wants to kiss him. Wants to hold his hand and tell him everything will be okay.

"I don't want to," Lukas promises.

"We have to think positively," Philip says. "As long as I don't get into any more trouble, CPS has nothing to worry about."

"Yeah," Lukas agrees, and then he yawns quietly. Philip tries to imagine the faint crinkle of his eyes and his lips parting open. It's adorable.

"Will you stay on the line with me until I fall asleep? So I don't get nightmares," Philip says shyly, toying with the hem of Anne's old quilt.

Philip can practically see Lukas smiling through the phone. "Yeah, of course."

And neither of them have scary dreams that night.


	9. Nerds & Newspapers

Philip's trying hard to be a good kid. He _really_  is. 

After Helen's strong verbal warning, he's scared shitless about being sent away to a group home in the city, far away from his loving foster parents and, of course, Lukas. So he's trying to avoid trouble at all costs, and in order to do so, he just needs to blend in.

Currently, it's Monday morning, and Philip is walking down the hall at school, keeping his eyes focused on the tiled floors. He ignores the whispers behind his back and the "accidental" shoulder bumps as students walk by on the way to first period. He takes a deep breath, unclenches his fists, and suppresses the urge to punch all the homophobes in the face. The last thing he needs right now is to start a fight.

Philip sighs quietly and hurriedly twists the combination on his locker. He grabs his thick history textbook and stuffs it in his backpack alongside multiple folders and spiral-bound notebooks. Abruptly, he hears his phone  _ding_ and looks down to see a text message on his screen from Lukas. Smiling, he clicks the green icon and scans his eyes over the message.

_miss youuuuu_

Philip bites his lip and types back,  _It's been less than 24 hrs. Relax._

After that, Lukas replies with a crying emoji, and Philip just sends back a blue heart. They're kind of adorable, Philip thinks. He never thought he'd have a real, genuine relationship like this. He never thought anyone could look past all his flaws and love him unconditionally, but then he met Lukas. Sometimes he feels the need to pinch himself to make sure he's not just dreaming the whole thing.

"Hey."

Startled, Philip turns around to see someone he doesn't recognize. It's a boy, probably a lower classman, with a warm smile on his face. He's wearing a grey sweater that looks far too big on his petite, delicate body. The jeans on his legs are filled with various holes and tears, leaving the pale flesh of his knobby knees exposed. A pair of black, thick-rimmed glasses cover his hazel eyes.

"Hey," Philip replies, but it comes out sounding like a question.

The boy laughs quietly, brushing a stray golden curl behind his ear. "You're Philip Shea, right?" he asks. "The new kid?"

Philip nods slowly. The lump in his throat thickens.

"I'm Jace," he explains, hazel eyes twinkling. "I'm the chief editor of our school's newspaper."

Philip raises an eyebrow. "We— we have a newspaper?"

"Yes," Jace chuckles. " _The Red Hook Herald._ "

Philip blinks slowly. "Oh."

"Oh," Jace mocks teasingly. "Anyway, I heard you like taking pictures."

"Where'd you hear that?"

Jace shrugs, and a faint blush of pinkness rises to his cheeks. "I saw your Instagram. You're very talented, actually."

Philip falters. "Oh, um. Thanks."

Jace nods. "We happen to be in desperate need of a new photographer. Are you interested?"

Philip's mouth feels dry. "I— um, I dunno. I've never really... taken pictures professionally before."

Jace grins. "Well, if you decide you want to join our squad, we'd be happy to have you. Here's my number." He quickly grabs a pen from his backpack and uncapped it with his teeth before scribbling his cellphone number across Philip's palm.

Philip stares at the smudged digits for a few seconds. "Okay."

"I'll see you around," Jace says, giving him a quick wave.

He disappears down the crowded hallway amidst the sea of students, leaving Philip alone at his locker, staring at the numbers on his hand. Eventually, he shuts his locker and walks to his first period literature class with his hands tucked in his pockets. He doesn't look anyone in the eye and stares down at the scuffed toes of his leather boots.

When he arrives at his classroom, room 370 with Mrs. Renfield, he sits in the back row near the window, trying not to draw attention to himself. His desk is decorated with pencil marks and engraved with various profanities. He pulls out his old copy of  _The Things They Carried_ complete with torn pages and a faded cover. He flips to a random page and starts reading as the rest of the students file in.

He keeps quiet during lecture— doesn't raise his hand to answer a question even when he knows the answer. He just wants to be invisible. That would make his life much easier.

When lunchtime rolls around, Philip walks into the crowded cafeteria with his hoodie pulled over his hair. It's loud, filled with a constant buzz of chatter, and the room is illuminated with warm light seeping in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. He immediately spots Lukas at his clique's table in the center of the lunchroom, and he stares at him for a solid three seconds before forcing himself to look away.

He always sits with the same people every day. There's Jacob, the dark-haired hockey player with olive skin and a crooked nose resulting from an unfortunate encounter with a hockey puck. To Lukas's left, there's Brandon and his girlfriend, Hannah. She keeps twirling her fingers through her curly, auburn hair and laughing at every lame joke that comes out of her boyfriend's mouth. Across from Lukas sits Ethan, Isaac, and Keaton, all of whom are the redneck sons of local farmers who happen to love motocross. It's no wonder they all get along.

Philip wants nothing more than to sit with them— or to sit with anyone, really. He just wants to  _belong_. He's tired of being the infamous stalker everyone fears and goes out of their way to avoid. He just wants to make friends,  _any_ friends, and at this point he honestly doesn't care who they are. He'd much rather be a nerd with lots of friends than an outcast with none. 

Frowning, Philip clutches the brown sack lunch Gabe packed him and starts walking towards the courtyard. That's where most of the losers sit, anyway. On the cold, wet grass with nothing but birds and squirrels to keep them company.

As he walks towards the door, however, he feels a cold hand clamp on his wrist. He jumps, startled, and looks down to see Jace staring at him with a welcoming smile, eyes bright and cheerful. He's sitting with his journalism friends around a circular table, chatting over plastic trays of greasy pizza and sandwiches.

"Hey," he greets kindly. "Wanna sit with us?"

Philip blinks. "Me?"

Jace laughs. "Yeah, you."

Philip's eyes scan over Jace's friends, expecting to see hesitance, but instead they're all smiling. They seem genuinely nice, and it catches him off guard. After living here for almost three months now, he's become accustomed to treating bitterness and bullying like the norm.

"Oh," he mumbles shyly. "Sure."

He takes the empty seat next to Jace and opens the brown bag, pulling out a dry turkey sandwich and an orange. He starts peeling the fruit with his thumbs and looks up at the crowd of kind faces surrounding him. He gives a shy, weak smile.

"So, these are all of my friends from the journalism club," Jace explains. He nods towards the dark-skinned boy sitting at Philip's left. He's tall and broad-shouldered with sharp cheekbones that could probably cut through glass. Next to him, there's a petite, chubby-faced blonde girl with the brightest green eyes Philip has ever seen. Then, there's a pretty brunette girl with eye makeup so dark she almost looks like a raccoon. "This is Xavier, Sierra, and Molly"

They all smile and greet Philip with eagerness. It's refreshing to see a little shred of humanity in this god-forsaken town. They all ask him about their newspaper's desperate need for a photographer, and despite his initial reluctance, he actually considers it. It might be nice to find his place around here— to join a club. To find a purpose. To befriend people who aren't embarrassed to be seen with him.

He tells them he'll think about it, but he's pretty sure the answer is already yes.

°°°

Just before the last bell rings, Philip receives a text from Lukas. He looks down at his phone under his desk and bites his lip as his tired eyes scan over his glowing screen.

 _meet me at the tunnel after class._  ♡

Philip smiles at the little heart emoji and slings his backpack over his shoulder. After class ends, he sneaks out the back door of the school, which is technically meant for custodians, and wanders towards the tunnel in the woods. Outside, the air is hot and humid and clings to his skin, making him sweat. He sweeps his dark hair out of his eyes and walks down the narrow dirt path that curves through the forest.

Loose sticks and stones crunch audibly beneath the soles of his boots. Above the entrance to the tunnel is the number "1926," and Philip assumes that's probably the year it was built. The exterior concrete is covered in cracks and green moss that coats the cold, grey surface like a blanket. Graffiti decorates the entrance of the tunnel with random symbols and faded names that have long since been washed away by rain.

Frowning, Philip grabs a random stick off the ground. While he waits for Lukas, he walks up and down the length of the tunnel and drags it against the concrete, making the scratching sound echo and rattle in his ears. He remembers waiting here for Lukas a few weeks back, only to be greeted by Helen instead. A lot of things have changed since then.

A big, calloused palm clasps on Philip's shoulder. He jumps out of surprise and turns around to see Lukas staring down at him lovingly, smirk on his face. He drops the stick. 

"Fuck," Philip says, slapping his arm playfully. "You scared me."

Lukas just leans in and kisses him like he can't wait another second— like it's an itch he's been waiting all day to scratch. He cups Philip's face with his hands and presses him against the wall of the tunnel, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth.

"What's gotten into you?" Philip asks, laughing. A faint blush rises to his cheeks. "Not that I'm complaining," he adds for clarification.

"I just missed you," Lukas says, shaking his head. "Being grounded sucks, dude."

"Yeah,  _dude_ ," Philip mocks, tugging on the collar of Lukas's shirt. He plants a chaste kiss on his chapped lips before nuzzling his nose against Lukas's.

"Do you think you can sneak out tonight?" Lukas asks, and his blue eyes look darker in the shaded light of the tunnel, like the ocean after a storm.

Philip shakes his head. "I don't want to get in any more trouble, Lukas. You heard what Helen said."

Lukas bites your lip. "But I need to see you."

"You see me at school."

"Well, yeah, but I can't actually... hang out with you. In front of everyone."

Philip hums. "Ah, right, we're supposed to be enemies."

Lukas frowns. "I'm sorry—"

Philip kisses him to interrupt his rambling unneeded apology. "It's fine. I get it."

"Soon," Lukas reminds him, throat bobbing slowly.

"Soon," Philip echoes. He tries his best to hide the doubt in his voice.

Smiling, Lukas rests his hands on Philip's hips and kisses him senselessly. He runs his tongue against the pink flesh of Philip's bottom lip and makes him whine in the back of his throat. Melting into his touch, Philip snakes his arms around Lukas's neck and pulls him in closer.

When Lukas finally does pull back, there's a frown on his face. "I should go," he grumbles. "If I come home late from school, my dad's gonna kill me."

Philip nods understandingly and grabs his boyfriend's hand, twisting their fingers together. "Okay."

Lukas looks down at their hands and raises an eyebrow. Puzzled, he pulls back Philip's palm and stares blankly at the faded digits on his skin.

"What's this?"

Philip laughs dryly. "Oh, I almost forgot about that," he admits, shoulders bobbing. "This guy named Jace asked me to join the school's newspaper and gave me his number."

Lukas's face turns red in almost an instant. His jaw sets tightly. "A guy?"

Philip raises an eyebrow. "Yeah. Why?"

"Was he flirting with you?"

Philip scoffs. "What? No. It wasn't like that. He just needs a photographer."

Lukas rolls his eyes. "Sure, whatever. That's a classic flirting move— says he needs you for your photography skills as an excuse to give you his number. That's how we started talking, remember?"

Philip chuckles. "It's not like that, Lukas, I promise. I barely even know the guy."

"So you've only talked to him once?"

Philip bites the inside of his lip. "Well, once this morning and then again at lunch. He asked me to sit with him."

Philip can practically see the steam burning off the top of Lukas's head. Without saying anything, he presses Philip's back against the wall again and starts kissing down his throat. He nibbles on the skin above his collarbone, right at the base of his throat, and starts sucking a love bite into his tanned skin. Philip just gasps and settles his hands on Lukas's waist, letting him give him a hickey.

"Luka," he whimpers. "If Helen sees—"

"Don't care," Lukas mumbles against his neck. The sensation of his teeth and tongue against his flesh sends tingles down Philips's spine. Lukas licks his tongue over the fresh mark and smiles proudly at it. He pecks his lips one last time and leans his forehead against Philip's. "Mine," he exhales.

Philip hums. "Yours," he promises. "Even if nobody knows it."

Lukas licks his lips. "Yet."

"Yet," he agrees with a little ember of hope burning in his heart. 


	10. Orange Lilies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay! I was taking summer classes at college while simultaneously working two part time jobs, so I haven't had much time to write lately. Thanks for your patience. Feedback is always appreciated!

Philip drizzles maple syrup on his stack of warm, golden pancakes, watching the thick liquid slowly drip onto his plate. He takes a few bites in an attempt to soothe the growling hunger clawing at his ribcage. He washes down the sticky food with a gulp of orange juice. Across the table, Gabe stifles a laugh, and Philip looks up with a mouthful of pancakes, syrup dripping from the corners of his mouth.

"What?" he asks, still chewing his food.

Gabe just shakes his head. "You're acting like you're starving."

"I'm just hungry. Thanks for making breakfast, Helen," he tells his foster mother, nodding in her direction. He grabs a piece of bacon from the center of the table and takes a small nibble. "Everything is really delicious."

Helen hums, tucking a few stray hairs behind her ear. She's dressed in her sheriff uniform and has her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. "You're welcome."

Philip licks his lips, tasting the lingering flavor of sugary maple. "So, I was wondering if I could have you sign something," he says, pulling out a wrinkled piece of paper from his backpack.

Helen raises an eyebrow. "That better not be a detention slip."

Philip shakes his head, laughing under his breath. "No, no. It's just a permission slip. To join a club at school."

Gabe lifts his head with interest. "A club?"

"Yeah. The school newspaper."

"I didn't know you were a writer," Helen says, eyes scanning across the page.

"I'm not. They need a photographer."

"That's wonderful, Philip," Helen muses. She continues to read more information about the journalism club, feeling warmth blossom in her stomach. Honestly, she's a little relieved to see Philip socializing with people other than Lukas. "It says the club meets after school on Mondays and Wednesdays," she reads aloud.

"Yeah," Philip murmurs, twiddling his thumbs. "I know I'm technically still grounded, but—

"It's fine, dear," Helen interrupts, raising her hand. "I think we can make an exception for extracurriculars."

"This is great, son," Gabe praises, clasping his large palm on Philip's shoulder. A toothy grin is spread across his thin, pale lips.

Philip smiles shyly as Helen scribbles her signature across the bottom of the permission slip. Philip thanks her quietly and stuffs it in his backpack alongside spiral-bound notebooks and colorful folders. He's smiling so wide his cheeks are starting to hurt. He still can't believe the kids in the journalism club want to be his friend, despite all the rumors surrounding Philip's reputation. Everyone else thinks he's a stalker, a freak, a weird queer from the city.

"I'm glad you're making friends," Helen admits.

Philip blushes. "Well, I wouldn't say they're my  _friends_ quite yet," he mumbles. "More like friendly acquaintances."

Gabe laughs dryly. "Still, it's good to know not every kid at Red Hook is a total asshole."

Helen scoffs. "Gabe!"

"What?"

"You can't just call the children at Philip's school assholes."

Philip's laughs so hard he chokes on his bacon. He coughs a few times and tries to catch his breath. When he finally does, his face is as red as a cherry.

"He's almost eighteen years old, Helen. I think he can handle a little mild cursing."

Helen just rolls her eyes, but she can't hide the small smile that curls on her mouth.

Suddenly, Philip hears the rumble of a familiar motorcycle engine. He looks up through the nearby window to see Lukas driving up their gravel driveway on his bike. A cloud of brown dust follows his trail, and he stops his bike in front of the front porch, knocking down the kickstand with the toe of his leather boot.

Usually Lukas just waits for him outside and sends him a text, but surprisingly, he walks up to the front door... with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He knocks on the oak door three times.

Philip springs up from the table and rushes over to the front door. He opens it with a puzzled look on his face and doesn't say anything; instead, he just stares at the orange lilies in his boyfriend's hand.

"Hey," Lukas greets with a smile, pecking Philip's cheek.

"You didn't have to buy me flowers," Philip says, tilting his head.

"What?"

"Y'know, to make up for being a possessive asshole," Philip grumbles quietly, pointing to the obvious lovebite on his neck. He managed to cover it slightly with some of Helen's concealer, which he secretly borrowed while she was at work, but it's still a little visible. If you squint.

"Oh, I'm not apologizing for that," Lukas says, chuckling. "These are for Helen. Is she home?" he asks, peering over his boyfriend's shoulder.

He pushes past Philip and greets Helen and Gabe in the dining room. They both look at him with puzzled looks on their faces, equally as surprised as Philip. Helen takes a slow sip of her coffee, clammy hands wrapped around the warm mug.

"Hello, Mrs. Torrance and Dr. Caldwell."

Gabe wipes his mouth with a napkin. "Hey, Lukas. How's your chest healing?" he asks curiously.

"Fine, thanks," he answers honestly. He looks at Helen and smiles nervously. "These are for you."

Helen's eyes widen. "Oh, you didn't have to—"

"I just wanted to say sorry for lying to you about camping," he explains awkwardly.

Gabe and Helen both exchange a peculiar look. "It's fine, Lukas," Helen assures. "Thank you for the flowers."

She grabs a large mason jar from one of the kitchen cabinets and places the flowers inside before filling it with water from the tap. Meanwhile, Philip slings his backpack over his shoulder and motions towards the front door.

"Uh," he says, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, "we're gonna be late."

Lukas glances at the electronic clock on the microwave. "Oh, yeah, you're right."

"Let's go," Philip says impatiently, tugging on Lukas's sleeve.

"Have a good day, boys," Gabe calls to them as Philip slips on his leather boots in the mud room, quickly tying the frayed laces.

"You too!" Lukas replies a little too enthusiastically.

Giving Lukas a weird look, Philip grabs his hand and pulls him out the front door. As soon as it shuts behind them, he furrows his eyebrows and looks up at his smiling, doofy boyfriend. In the early sunlight, his blue eyes look like sapphires.

"Okay, what was  _that_?" Philip demands.

Lukas blinks cluelessly. "What?"

Philip scoffs. "You were being... polite."

Lukas places his hand over his heart dramatically. "Oh, no, I'm the worst boyfriend ever! How dare I be polite towards your foster parents?" he says sarcastically.

Philip rolls his eyes. "Shut up."

Lukas laughs and grabs Philip's hands, holding them gently in his own. "Look, I just want them to be able to trust me, y'know? I plan on sticking around you for a little while."

"A little while?" Philip teases.

"At least until you finish editing my motocross stunt reel." Philip playfully punches his shoulder. "I'm kidding, dude. I just... want them to like me." 

Philip reaches up and brushes a few stray hairs out of Lukas's eyes. "Everyone loves you."

"That's far from the truth," Lukas rebuttals, looking at the ground shyly. "Everyone loves  _you_ , Philip Shea. Including that stupid Jace kid." He spits out his name like it's poison.

Philip shakes his head fondly. "He wasn't flirting with me, Lukas. And even if he was, so what? I'm taken."

"Yeah, but nobody knows we're together."

"And whose fault is that?"

Lukas falters and takes a step backwards. "Ouch," he says, voice a little broken.

Philip's heart thuds against his chest. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm just not ready, Philip."

"I know."

"It's just not easy being the way I am out here," the blond says quietly.

"I know, Lukas," Philip sighs. "I shouldn't have said that. Sorry."

Lukas swallows the lump in his throat. "It's alright," he assures, leaning down to peck Philip's cheek. The smaller boy flushes under his touch and wraps his arms around his waist, bringing him in for a tight hug. They stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, while Helen's wind chimes cling together in the background.

After a long moment, Lukas hands Philip his spare helmet. "Let's go. School awaits."

∘∘∘

Lukas is watching Philip out of the corner of his eye, like usual. He's sitting at his table in the cafeteria with his popular friends, completely zoned out of their conversation. Their voices morph into background noise while he stares at the back of his boyfriend's head, watching as he laughs and chats with his new friends from the journalism club.

He's happy Philip is making friends, he really is, he just wishes Jace would keep his grabby hands off of Philip. And he needs to stop staring at him like that; it's making Lukas turn red with jealousy.

Clenching his fists under the table, Lukas watches as Philip laughs at a joke Hannah made, and Jace has the  _audacity_ to lightly rest his hand on Philip's forearm. His fingernails dig into his palms, jaw clenched tightly.

"Hey," a voice says, and suddenly there's a hand waving in front of Lukas's face. It snaps him back to reality. He blinks a few times and scans his eyes around his group of friends, who are all looking at him with questionable expressions.

"What?" Lukas asks.

Next to him, his friend, Isaac, chuckles. "You were, like, in another dimension, bro."

Lukas scoffs and casually takes another bite of his greasy cafeteria pizza. "Shut up, I was not."

"Did you even hear what we were saying?" Keaton cuts in.

Lukas shakes his head. "No."

"Ally is throwing a huge party in Red Hook this weekend," Ethan says with a smirk on his face.

"Ally?"

"My girlfriend."

"Oh, right," Lukas says, wiping his oily fingers on a paper napkin. "Honestly, you switch girlfriends every week. Kinda hard to keep track."

Ethan laughs and elbows Lukas in the stomach. "Anyway, do you wanna come?"

Lukas pauses. "I dunno."

Isaac's girlfriend, Jillian, groans in annoyance. "Oh, c'mon, Lukas! You haven't been to a party since that hunting accident."

"Partying isn't the same without our beer pong champion," Keaton adds, brown eyes hopeful. "And maybe you could find a nice rebound from Rose."

Lukas bites the inside of his cheek. "I would, guys, but I'm grounded." And it's not a complete lie; he  _is_ grounded. Sometimes getting in trouble has its perks.

Isaac rolls his eyes. "Seriously, dude?"

"Yeah."

"What'd you do?"

Lukas's chest tightens. He mindlessly twirls his plastic fork in his cup of day-old, soggy fruit. "Just stupid stuff. You guys know how my dad is."

Thankfully, they decide to drop the subject after that. Instead, they start talking about what kinds of drinks they're going to bring to the party, so Lukas's eyes naturally float back to Philip across the room. He stares at the wavy brunette hair on the back of his head, the faint outline of his back muscles through his thin t-shirt, the way his shoulders bob up each time he laughs.

He watches in horror while Jace casually wraps his arm around Philip's shoulder— and  _that_ is the last straw. He sees the confident, flirtatious smile on Jace's stupid face, and something inside of Lukas snaps. He instantly pulls out his phone and sends a text message to Philip.

 **To Philip:** _tel_ _l him to stop touching you_.

He keeps his eyes on Philip and watches him look at his phone screen, freeze, and then casually nudge Jace's arm off his shoulders. Philip subtly turns in his seat and glances back at Lukas, making eye contact for a few seconds, before returning his attention back to his group of friends. In a matter of seconds, Lukas receives a text from Philip.

 **From Philip:**   _Jealous?_

Lukas's teeth clench as he types back a reply, phone hidden beneath the table so his friends don't see. He can't believe Philip is making jokes about this; he feels so angry he could burst. He's not angry at Philip, per se, but rather angry about their circumstances. Angry that he can't hold his boyfriend's hand in public. Angry that everyone thinks they're enemies rather than lovers. Angry that Jace thinks he has permission to touch his boyfriend in any way, shape, or form.

 **To Philip:**   _can you sneak out tonight?_

He sees Philip hesitate before responding.

 **From Philip:**   _I don't wanna get in any more trouble..._

Lukas bites his lip.

 **To Philip:** _we wont get caught. promise_.

 **From Philip:**   _OK, fine. But only cuz seeing you possessive gets me all hot and bothered._

**To Philip:** _me_ _et me in Gabe's barn at midnight?_

**From Philip:**   _It's a date._ ♥

Lukas smiles down at the silly heart emoji, causing Ethan to tap his shoulder. He quickly locks his phone screen and looks up at his friend with flushed cheeks.

"Texting a girl?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Lukas bites his lip. "Uh—"

"You seriously need a rebound from Rose, dude," Isaac cuts in.

"I don't need a rebound," Lukas reassures, trying to hide the slight crack of nervousness in his voice. " _I_ broke up with  _her,_ remember?"

"Yeah, 'cause you're an idiot," Keaton scoffs. "She's so hot, bro."

Lukas scratches his head awkwardly. "We just... weren't right for each other."

"Whatever, dude," Ethan says, rolling his eyes. "You gotta stop acting so weird."

"Yeah, Lukas. Lately you've been as weird as that faggot who stalked you," Isaac laughs, causing an eruption of laughter around their lunch table.

Lukas feels a sting in the back of his throat. He doesn't laugh. His entire body tenses, and for a split moment he thinks he might cry. But then he remembers what his father always told him, especially after his mother passed away— real men don't cry. Real men suppress their emotions. Real men don't let their feelings get hurt.

The smiles and laughter on his friends' faces feel like bullets piercing through his chest. He chokes down his tears and doesn't speak. Wordlessly, he stands up from the table and quickly exits the cafeteria, tossing the rest of his food in the garbage. 


	11. Graffiti

"All of my friends are assholes," Lukas rants, face red with frustration. He's mindlessly picking at stray pieces of hay to avoid Philip's burning gaze. He leans against the wooden wall of the barn, letting out a deep sigh.

"Then why are you friends with them?" Philip asks blankly.

Lukas shrugs. "I dunno. They're all I have."

"You have me."

Lukas bites the inside of his cheek. "Yeah, but it's... different with you."

Philip nods slowly as if he understands, even though he doesn't. He'll never understand why Lukas feels the need to please those around him, even when they don't deserve his kindness. He always wants to be the best at everything— motocross, pleasing his father, popularity— even if it means surrounding himself with toxic people.

"Earlier today, they were making fun of you in the cafeteria," Lukas admits, staring at the dirt floor of Gabe's barn, tracing the faded boot prints with his eyes. "I should've said something— I should've stood up for you."

Philip tilts his head. "It's fine, Lukas. I honestly don't care what they think."

Lukas frowns. "But—"

"I don't care," Philip promises, taking a step towards him. He braces his hands on his shoulders and forces him to look up. "I'm finally starting to make friends at school, I have the hottest boyfriend ever, and I have two amazing foster parents who love me. Nothing else in the world matters, especially not what your stupid friends think of me."

Lukas smirks and tugs on his own ear. "What was that you said about your boyfriend? I didn't quite hear you— might need you to repeat it."

Philip rolls his eyes and playfully slaps his chest. "Shut up."

Lukas gently cups his face between his hands, stares at him for a moment, and connects their lips. The kiss is soft and delicate, unrushed. Lukas can taste the chapstick on his lips. His hands float down to his hips and stay anchored there, lightly tugging on the waistband of his sweatpants.

When they finally separate, lips wet and red and bitten, their limbs have liquified, and Philip finds himself practically melted into Lukas's arms. They're sitting on the floor of the barn loft, and Lukas still has his hands around Philip's waist.

"Ethan's girlfriend is having a party this weekend," Lukas mutters quietly. He's currently playing with Philip's hair, wrapping one of the loose curls around his finger. It feels soft.

Philip hums to show he's playing attention, plants a soft kiss above his collarbone.

"I think we should go," Lukas says eventually.

"We?" Philip asks, turning his face slightly. The moonlight casts shadows of white on the soft curves of his face.

"Not as boyfriends," Lukas clarifies. "But, y'know. As friends."

Philip's face deflates a little after those words leave Lukas's mouth, but he tries to act like he didn't notice. Tries to act like it didn't feel like a knife through his chest.

"Friends," Philip repeats slowly.

"I'm just... not ready to tell everyone yet," Lukas says, voice quiet and ashamed.

"It's okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Philip says with a small shrug. "I mean, a few months ago you didn't even want to be seen with me at school and punched me in the hallway; I'd say  _friends_ is a step in the right direction."

Lukas nods and kisses the top of his head. "Okay."

"Does this mean I can call you 'bro'?" Philip teases, teasingly punching Lukas's arm.

Lukas chuckles softly, cheeks pink. "Stop it."

"Dude?" he jokes, mocking Lukas's voice.

"No."

"Brother from another mother?"

"Philip!"

"C'mon, bro! You're harshing my vibe."

Lukas covers his face with his hands, throws his head back, and groans. "Stop!"

Philip giggles. "Do you like it? That's my straight fuckboy voice," he says, puffing out his chest.

Lukas knits his brows together, pretending to be offended. "I talk like that. Does that make me a straight fuckboy?"

"Well... you're definitely not straight," Philip mumbles, bringing their lips together again.

°°°

When Philip walks into school the next day, he feels everyone staring at him. Usually a few people give him weird looks or make homophobic jokes under their breath, but something about this morning feels different. It's almost like everyone is on edge for some reason, and it immediately makes his skin crawl with anxiety.

He keeps his gaze downward as he turns down the corner of a hallway to find his locker. Immediately, he feels someone grab his wrist and spin him around. It's Jace, and he's looking at Philip with a concerned expression on his face. His round glasses teeter at the end of his nose, causing him to sniffle and push them back up.

"Hey," Jace says, voice frantic. He's looking around their surroundings urgently as if he's afraid someone might pounce on them at any given moment. He swipes his hair out of his eyes and starts pulling Philip towards the opposite end of the school. "We have an emergency journalism club meeting," he mutters under his breath.

Philip looks up at him, eyebrow cocked. "What?" he asks, chuckling softly at the proposition.

But Jace looks completely serious. "C'mon, Philip."

"Hey, stop it," Philip says, halting in his tracks. "What's going on?"

"I told you—"

"I'm almost late for class," Philip insists, turning back towards his locker. "We can talk later, okay?"

Jace tilts his head reluctantly and follows Philip like a shadow to his locker, nervously biting his fingernails. When they finally reach his locker, he finally understands why Jace wanted him to go in the other direction. Multiple students are gathered around Philip's locker, laughing and taking pictures of it with their phones. Philip blinks with confusion and pushes through the crowd.

There's a giant, poorly-drawn graffiti dick spray painted on his locker, along with the words "cock sucker." He inhales a sharp breath of surprise and takes a startled step backwards. All of the other students stare at him, waiting to see his reaction.

"Philip," Jace says quietly, grabbing his elbow. "Just ignore it."

Philip shakes his head. "Who the fuck did this?" he asks, voice hushed.

"Nice locker, Shea!" a deep voice shouts from across the hall. He quickly recognizes it as Ethan's. 

Philip looks over to see all of Lukas's friends leaning against the brick wall, all laughing and smirking. Giggles and crude taunts echo from bystanders. Philip's chest tightens.

Jace frowns. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you to see this," he mutters.

Out of the corner of his eye, Philip sees a head of blonde hair break through the crowd. Lukas stands next to his friends, brows scrunched with confusion, and looks at Philip's locker with lips slightly parted in shock. He doesn't say anything, but all of his friends are still laughing. Lukas's lips flatten, and he looks at Philip sympathetically.

Still, he does nothing.

Suddenly, over the intercom, the principal's voice booms in the speakers:  _Philip Shea, please report to the principal's office_.

A round of "ooh"s erupts in the crowd of students. Philip looks at Lukas longingly, waiting for him to say something or do something. Waiting for him to stand up for him. Waiting for him to tell his friends to fuck off and stop being homophobes. 

But still, he does nothing.

Philip frowns and ignores the sharp pain in his chest. Jace mumbles some comforting words and places his hand on the small of his back, guiding him towards the principal's office. 

  °°° 

"I hope you're aware that we don't tolerate destruction of school property," the principal begins, voice low and stern. 

Mr. Leighton's office is ridiculously tidy. His desk is organized to perfection with his computer in the center, fingers ghosting lightly on the keyboard. A metal cup holds a few highlighters, pens, and pencils. A framed photograph of his wife and two children sits in the corner.

The tall shelf along the wall is filled with books, mostly about anthropology, which is his specialty. His university degrees are proudly hung above the window. The shelf appears to be freshly dusted, and the black surface is shiny and clean. 

"This is the second time I've had you in my office, and you've only been attending my school for less than one semester," Mr. Leighton says tiredly, clasping his fingers together and resting his elbows on the desk. The brown skin on his hands are speckled with dark moles and freckles. 

"It's not my fault," Philip says defensively. 

"First you got into a physical altercation with Lukas Waldenbeck, and now this?"  

Philip blinks in silence. "Wait, you think  _I_ vandalized my own locker?"

"No, but you clearly did something to entice it," Mr. Leighton insists. 

Philip shakes his head. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"Well, do you know who vandalized it?" the principal asks expectantly, brows raised.

Philip bites his lip. "I think I have an idea."

"Who? Lukas Waldenbeck?" 

"No."

"Then who?"

"Ethan Lockwood."

Mr. Leighton falters. "You think Ethan Lockwood vandalized your locker?"

Philip nods slowly.

"Ethan is one of our school's best students. He has a clean record. Why do you think he was the perpetrator?" 

"Because he hates me."

"And why's that?"

Philip tilts his head slightly. "Because he's homophobic, like most of the people in this close-minded town."

The principal remains silent for a few seconds. His eyes drift to the ink pen on his desk, and he fiddles with the cap for a moment while he ponders. 

"I see," he says quietly. "I'll check our school's security cameras. If it turns out to be Ethan, he'll receive an after-school detention."

"Detention?" Philip scoffs, standing up from his chair angrily. "He threatened me in the cafeteria the other day, knocked my lunch out of my hands, has been calling me names behind my back, and vandalized my locker! He should be suspended."

Mr. Leighton sighs. "These are all just... accusations, Philip."

Philip stares at the principal with disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"I'm sorry if any students have been bullying you, kid. I really am."

"But you're not going to do anything about it, right?" 

Mr. Leighton pinches the bridge of his nose tiredly. "This is high school. If I expelled every student who's ever bullied anyone, I'd have no students at all."

"Great," Philip grumbles sarcastically. "Thanks so much for your help."

The principal exhales deeply. He grabs a pad of yellow sticky notes and scribbles some numbers across the first page before ripping it off and handing it to Philip. 

"This is your new locker number and combination," Mr. Leighton explains. "I called maintenance, and they said it might take a day or two to clean up the graffiti." 

"Yeah, sure," Philip mutters, crumpling the sticky note and stuffing it in his pocket. "Can I be excused now? I'm late for class."

Mr. Leighton glances up at the clock and nods slowly. "Yes, you may." 

Philip slings his backpack over his shoulder before walking out of his office, feeling completely helpless. 

 

 


	12. Sunshine

Philip is watching an episode of a random cartoon show to distract his mind when Helen walks through the front door. He's lounging on the couch in sweatpants with a bowl of ice cream in his lap, his favorite comfort food. Anne used to make him the best after-school sundaes, with chocolate syrup and chopped bananas, but Gabe's strawberry ice cream will have to suffice.

Helen stands at the edge of the living room in her sheriff uniform, holding a bag of groceries in her hand. She looks at her foster son with a frown on her lips.

"Well, I was gonna what you wanted for dinner, but I can see you've already helped yourself," she says, eyeing the ice cream.

Philip licks his lips and gives a shy smile. "Sorry."

Helen sits at the edge of the couch. "Are you okay? You look a little..."

"Pathetic?"

"I was going to say sad," Helen insists with a small shrug. 

"It's... just school," Philip insists. 

Helen nods slowly. "I got a call from your principal, and he told me what happened."

Philip's eyes widen. "It wasn't my fault—"

"I know," Helen assures, placing her hand on the small of his back. "I'm sorry that some kids still have that mindset."

"It's just a locker."

"We both know it's more than that."

"I don't care what anyone thinks of me. I just..."

"You just what?"

"I wish Lukas would've stood up for me," Philip admits sadly. 

Helen nods, eyebrows slightly raised. "I see."

"One of his friends did it," he explains as Helen curls up next to him on the sofa, giving him her undivided attention. "And he just... stood there while everyone laughed."

Helen purses her lips. "I'm sorry, Philip."

"I really do love him," Philip explains softly, and Helen combs her fingers through his hair. 

"I know you do."

"I just wish things were different," Philip continues, closing his eyes for a few seconds. He feels Helen tuck a few stray pieces of hair behind his ear. "I wish  _he_ was different. I wish he wasn't afraid to be himself— to be us."

Helen stays quiet for a moment. "Maybe he's just afraid of change." 

"He was raised by Bo of all people; of course he's afraid of change."

Helen lets out a soft, airy chuckle. "Well, you've got a point there."

Philip looks up at her with uncertainty. "Do you think Lukas and I are good together?"

She blinks for a few seconds before exhaling quietly through her nose. "I think you make each other very happy, most of the time."

"That doesn't really answer my question."

Helen's lips twitch into a small grin. "When I first met Gabe, I was a very different person than I am now. I was... depressed, angry, and guilty. I was a wilted flower. But then he came into my life like a big, goofy, corny ray of sunshine, and he helped me blossom again. And I think you're Lukas's sunshine, Philip. I think you can help him grow." 

Philip stays quiet, staring at the coffee table to avoid Helen's gaze.

"Relationships aren't always easy, but I think what you and Lukas have is worth holding onto. Just talk to him and tell him how you feel."

Philip runs his hand down his face, laughing hoarsly. "You make it sound so simple."

"Love is tough, but it's worth it," Helen promises, standing up from the couch. She kisses the top of his head. "That's why we wanted to keep you around, kid." 

She grabs the groceries and starts heading towards the kitchen. "I'm making spaghetti. Are you too full on ice cream to eat any?"

Philip just shakes his head. "Actually, I think I'm going over to Lukas's. I want to talk to him about what happened today."

"Oh, okay," Helen says with a short nod. "Do you need a ride?"

"I'll take my bike."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I just kinda need to... clear my head."

"Alright," Helen says, trying to hide the worry in her tone, but Philip notices. 

"I'll be safe and come home before curfew," Philip promises with a smile, grabbing his helmet from the foyer closet.  

Helen grins with pride. "That's my boy."

  ° ° ° 

He finds Lukas in the barn with the turkeys, refilling their watering founts with a hose. There's food pellets scattered across the floor, and the birds are gobbling and pecking at the ground, stray feathers interlaced with the dirt. Lukas is wearing a red plaid shirt and light wash jeans with holes in the knees, exposing the pale skin of his legs. 

He doesn't notice Philip's presence until he leans his bike against the large propane tank outside, resulting in an echoing clatter of metal. Lukas looks up with furrowed brows before his eyes widen. He quickly shuts off the hose and drops it on the ground.

"Philip," he says with surprise, immediately stepping towards him. "Are you okay?"

Philip shrugs. "I guess."

"You haven't been answering my texts," Lukas scoffs, shaking his head. "I was worried sick."

"I wanted to talk to you in person," he explains. "Besides, you didn't seem very worried at school."

Lukas falters. "What?"

"Y'know, when your homophobic friends vandalized my locker?"

"What was I supposed to do?"

"I dunno, maybe stand up for your boyfriend?"

"I wanted to, Philip, it's just—"

"Yeah, you're afraid of coming out," Philip says bitterly.

Lukas squints at him. "Well I'm sorry I'm not as brave as you, Philip," he says sarcastically. 

"I just don't understand what's holding you back. Don't you want to be with me?"

"Of course I do, idiot," Lukas grumbles. "But we're in... very different situations, okay? It's not as easy for me as it was for you."

Philip's lips fall open around a dry, humorless laugh. "You think it was easy?! Did you not see what happened to me today?"

Lukas stays quiet, lips pressed together, jaw tight.

"I just wish we were on the same page, Lukas," Philip says after a few seconds, and his voice has turned soft again. "I wish you wanted to be with me as much as I want to be with you."

Lukas shakes his head. "I want to be with you," he promises, resting his hand on Philip's hip. "It's just... I didn't even think about being gay until I met you. I mean, I guess I kinda always knew deep down, but I always thought it would be impossible to get a boyfriend in Tivoli of all places. So I ignored it. I dated girls. I acted straight my entire life, but then I met you. This is all... very new to me. And it's fucking terrifying, dude."

Philip's face softens. "Luka," he says sweetly at loss of words.

"It's different for you. You came out when you lived in the city, and your mom was cool with it, and now you have two amazing foster parents. You've had boyfriends before. You've been out and proud since you were fifteen. But I've been... hiding my entire life, and I'm finally starting to figure myself out after seventeen years. You just gotta be patient with me."

Philip nods slowly. "I didn't know you felt that way."

Lukas's throat bobs. "Yeah, well."

"I always thought you were just... ashamed of me, or something."

Lukas laughs. "What? As if I'd be ashamed of my totally hot, talented boyfriend from the city."

Philip blushes, dimples poking through his cheeks. "Shut up."

"I mean it, though," Lukas assures, steadying his face with his hands. He forces him to look up and meet his eyes. "I'm sorry about earlier. I still should've stood up for you, even if I'm not ready to come out."

"It's fine."

"I'll talk to Ethan and tell him to stop being a dick."

"I'd appreciate it," Philip says happily, wrapping his arms around his waist. "And if you still wanna go to his girlfriend's party this weekend, as  _friends_ , I'd be delighted to be your bro."

"Sounds like a plan, bro."

"Awesome, bro."

Lukas laughs, eyes crinkling, and buries his face into the crook of Philip's neck. He can feel his airy breath against his skin, warm and comforting, so he holds him tighter against his chest. When Lukas finally looks up, he brings their lips together, kissing him softly.

Seconds later, Philip pulls back from the kiss with a scandalized look on his face. "Dude! You didn't even say 'no homo.'"

Lukas rolls his eyes. "Oh my god, shut up."

"Make me, bro."

Lukas pushes him up against the side of the barn and kisses him senselessly, just to keep him quiet. 

 


	13. All the Way to Red Hook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter finally catches us up to the "one month later" scene in the series finale. Kudos & comments are much appreciated! I love writing this fic, and I hope you guys are enjoying it so far, too. x

Philip stares at his reflection in the mirror with dissatisfaction, repeatedly threading his fingers through his hair to adjust his fringe. A slight frown settles on his lips as his mind begins to pick out every little flaw in his face: the faded scar on his forehead, the little mole under his lip, the crinkles next to his eyes. He can feel his heart thudding against his rib cage in anticipation. 

He bites his lip and contemplates bailing on Lukas. The thought of going to that party with him was exciting at first, but he's starting to have doubts. What if Lukas's friends suspect something more than friendship between them? What if it turns violent? He could easily just tell Lukas that he's sick, or that he's regretting their decision to go together. It's not like Lukas was super keen on the idea to begin with, anyway.

Abruptly, there's a soft knock on his bedroom door. He looks up to see Helen stepping inside with a soft smile on her face. She's not wearing her sheriff uniform, which Philip has become deeply accustomed to, and he sort of forgot that her work uniform isn't permanently attached to her body. Instead, she's opted for a pair of jeans and a white button-up shirt. 

"I just got a call from your mom's old landlord," she says softly, sitting at the edge of his bed across the room. She brushes a few stray hairs behind her ear. "He was cleaning out her apartment and found some things that we must've missed. Do you wanna go pick it up?"

Philip eyes her in the corner of the mirror. "Oh, um. Yeah, I guess so."

Helen nods slowly. "Okay. I called Tony and took the rest of the afternoon off. We can go get some lunch afterwards, if you'd like."

Philip's lips twitch into a smile. "Yeah, I'd really like that."

"I'm sure you've missed authentic New York City pizza."

Philip laughs, shaking his head. "You have no idea."

  ° °  °

 When Philip walks into his mother's old apartment, he barely recognizes it. It's a shell of its former shelf, stripped of all evidence of Anne's existence. All of the furniture is gone now, and the air smells like cleaning sprays and disinfectant rather than her favorite vanilla candles. Her former landlord, an older man with a beer belly and grey hair, is busy scrubbing the walls with a sponge to remove all the smoke stains, which cling like grey clouds to the corners. He doesn't notice Philip's presence until he clears his throat.

The man, Todd, looks over with a startled expression.  "Oh, hey, Philip. I put the rest of your mom's stuff in a box over there in the corner," he says, nodding towards its direction. "Found it in the back of the coat closet."

  
Philip mutters a quiet "thanks" under his breath before walking over to the box. He kneels down and begins sorting through its contents. It looks like mostly photographs and a few pieces of random jewelry, which she always had a knack for collecting. One of the photos is of the two of them together, taken just a few months before Philip was placed in foster care for the last time. It was during Christmas at the Manhattan Mall. They both look so happy, and there's a faint glimmer of holiday lights glowing behind them. He feels his throat tighten at the sight.

"I'm really sorry about your mom, kid," Todd says sadly, wringing out the dirty sponge in the sink. "She was a real nice lady. Really enjoyed talking to her when she was around."

Philip blinks a few times before responding. "Yeah, she was... great."

"It's a shame," he says, shaking his head. 

Philip picks up the box and tucks it under his arm. "Well, I should go. It's a long drive back to Tivoli."

"Take care, Philip."

"You too."

He waves briefly before walking outside and hopping into the passenger seat of Helen's Jeep. She stares at him expectantly as he buckles his seat belt and places the box on his lap.

"How'd it go?"

Philip just shrugs. "It was fine. Just some old pictures and jewelry."

"Oh, okay," Helen responds hesitantly. She slips her key into the ignition and starts it, causing their seats to rumble slightly beneath them. A quiet song plays through the muffled speakers on the radio. "Are you alright?"

Philip takes in a deep breath. "I think so. It's just... a lot. Seeing her apartment so empty like that."

"How long did you live here with her?" Helen asks curiously. 

"Less than a year," Philip admits with a shrug. "We moved around a lot— usually stayed with whatever boyfriend she was dating at the time. Between her crazy love life and me being constantly in and out of the foster system, I never really had a... permanent home." 

Helen smiles sadly and reaches over to squeeze her foster son's hand. "I'm sorry, Philip."

Philip lets her kiss the top of his head before pulling out of the parking lot, leaving the apartment behind. 

    ° ° ° 

When they pull into their driveway at home, Philip lets out a quiet sigh. It sort of feels relieving to be back in Tivoli. The city is filled with constant reminders of his mother, and as much as he loves and misses her, it can be a little overwhelming at times. When he sees the endless skyline of trees and green hills, he feels like he can finally breathe again.  

  
Philip grabs the box and hops out of Helen's Jeep. Nearby, Gabe steps out of the barn and waves to them with a big, goofy smile on his face.

"Hey! How'd it go?" he asks, walking up to them. He kisses Helen's cheek. 

"It was fine," Philip replies flatly, carrying the box towards the house. 

"Hey," Helen says sharply. She leans down to pick up something that fell on the ground. It's the Christmas picture, which is held inside of a wooden frame. She smiles fondly at the image. "I used to take pictures like that with my folks."

"Department store Christmas," Philip scoffs, holding it in his hands.

Helen lets out a short, quiet laugh. "You look so happy."

Philip stares at the picture for a few seconds. "My mom used to take me to get McDonald's afterwards."

Helen doesn't say another word; she just wraps her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Philip presses his face against her shoulder and exhales a sad, broken breath. He sniffles a few times before they separate, and he wipes the gathering tears away from his eyes with his knuckles.  

Gabe clears his throat. "Do you want— do you want us to bring this stuff to storage in the barn?"

"No, I'm gonna keep it in my room."

"We can keep it downstairs until we build the dark room in your closet," Helen suggests, smiling.

Philip sighs and tilts his head. "You guys don't have to do that for me."

Gabe laughs. "No, we want to—"

"Okay, downstairs it is," Helen says, taking the box from him. "What do we want for lunch?"

They all begin to walk towards the house, and Gabe snorts. "Depends on who's cooking."

Helen glares at him. "Ha ha," she says sarcastically, stepping up to the front porch. She looks behind her at her foster son expectantly. "Philip, a little support please?"

"Oh, sorry. Lukas is coming to pick me up."

Gabe reaches into his pocket. "Let me get you some cash." He slips a $20 bill into Philip's pocket. 

"Thanks," Philip says with a grin. 

Gabe looks at Helen. "Okay, babe. You got the keys?"

Helen falters. "No, I gave them to Tony to make a set for Philip."

"Where are your keys?" Gabe asks Philip, raising his brows.

"Lost them."

"Where are yours?" Helen asks her husband.

"They're attached to my car keys, which is being fixed at the shop, remember? So what are we gonna do now?" he asks, laughing and staring at the locked door. 

Helen scoffs. "I'm gonna put down this box and text Tony."

Abruptly, Philip hears the rumble of Lukas's motorcycle engine coming up the driveway. A spark of excitement lights up in his stomach. He immediately steps off the porch and walks towards his boyfriend happily.

"Are you coming home for dinner?" Helen calls out.

"Uh, I'm not sure! I'll text you guys." 

"Oh, okay. Be careful."

Philip immediately grabs the loose fabric of Lukas's motocross shirt and tugs him in sharply for a brief kiss. Lukas smiles against his lips before wrapping his arms around him, hugging him tightly. He feels warm. 

"Hey," Lukas says quietly. He moves his hips, pretending to dance to an imaginary beat. "You ready to party?"

Philip rolls his eyes. "As long as you promise not to do that in front of everyone."

Lukas slaps his chest lightly. "Shut up. Let's go."

To Philip's confusion, rather than mounting the bike, Lukas grabs the handles and starts walking with it towards the end of the driveway. Philip follows closely behind with the spare helmet hanging around his wrist. 

"So why are we walking?" Philip asks.

Lukas grins. "We're not— we're about to run."

"Why?"

Lukas tuts and looks at his bike sadly. "My starter's out. Can you believe that?"

"What?"

"Okay, 1-2-3 I need you go get on the back and push, alright?"

Philip tilts his head with annoyance. "No—"

"1-2-3!" Lukas announces gleefully, pushing on the handles of his bike as they run down the gravel road. The pebbles crunch audibly beneath its tires.

Philip grabs the seat of the bike and starts pushing. "Is this even gonna work?"

"C'mon!" Lukas encourages, running faster. Philip can barely keep up.

"Okay, okay, okay, it's not gonna work!" Philip insists, stopping in his tracks.

Lukas exhales heavily. "Damn it," he says, staring at his bike with frustration.

Philip just shakes his head at his idiotic boyfriend. 

"Y'know, I was gonna tell  you I had a dream about you last night," Lukas says quietly, gripping the handles of his motorcycle. "But, maybe it was déjà vu 'cause you were running down this road with my bike, and then we went to this crazy party in Red Hook, and I kissed you in front of everyone."

Philip raises his brows. "Oh, all that happened in your déjà vu?"

"Yeah, it did."

Philip grins, showing his dimples. "No, Lukas. Déjà vu is about something that already happened, not the future."

Lukas tilts his head, eyes squinted doubtfully.

"Oh my god, you're an idiot," Philip teases.

"No..."

"Yes. You just completely made that up, didn't you?"

"Maybe," Lukas admits with a shrug. "But it got you laughing, didn't it?"

Philip just shakes his head and giggles. "Yeah, I guess it did."

"So, do you still wanna go to this party in Red Hook?"

Philip looks at his big, dumb, lanky boyfriend, and suddenly there are no doubts in his mind. Regardless of what happens, they'll be okay. They witnessed a triple homicide together, after all. They can handle anything.

"Yeah, sure."

"Alright, get behind and push, then!" Lukas announces, running down the road.

Philip scoffs. "Wait, we really have to do that?"

"All the way to Red Hook, baby!"

Philip grabs the edge of the seat and starts pushing. "You were serious about this?!" he says, unable to contain his laughter. 

"Hey, as my dad would say, this is how men are made!" Lukas jokes, running up the steep hill. 

Philip pushes the bike behind him and laughs until his chest hurts, staring at the boy he loves with all his heart.


	14. House Party

A rhythmic beat pulses through the wooden boards on the front porch, vibrating the floor beneath Lukas's feet. Inside, an upbeat country song blares loudly from a pair of speakers, and drunken bodies move together in sync with the music. Red plastic cups and beer cans are scattered on the front lawn. A few people are loitering on the porch, drinking and talking and laughing, while Lukas stands there nervously with Philip at his side.

Lukas stares at the closed door for a few seconds and takes a deep breath. Philip gives him a sympathetic smile and brushes his hand softly against his bicep to get his attention.

"Hey," he says quietly. "If you changed your mind, we can back out."

Lukas immediately shakes his head. "No," he reassures. "I wanna do this."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sick of people treating you like shit, and I think if they know we're friends, they might leave you alone."

Philip smirks, showing his dimples. "Friends," he repeats slowly, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Shut up," Lukas scolds teasingly, elbowing him in the stomach. "Let's go inside."

The blond opens the front door and walks inside, Philip following closely behind like a timid shadow. He's never been much of a partier, even when he lived in the city. He'd much prefer to stay home on the weekends and read a book than get drunk and hookup with random strangers. 

"Lukas!" a voice immediately calls out. "You made it, bro!"

It's Keaton, one of Lukas's best friends, who's lounging on the sofa next to Ethan and Ally. He's wearing a tank top that's ripped partly down the sides to show off the ripped muscles in his dark skin. He grabs a can of cheap beer from the box on the floor and tosses it to Lukas, who catches it without hesitation.

"Thanks," he mutters, popping off the metal tab. He takes a quick gulp while Philip stands uncomfortably across the room, anxiously picking at his nails.

Ethan notices Philip and snorts. "Looks like your stalker has returned," he says, nodding in his direction. "Want me to get rid of him?"

Lukas glances over his shoulder at Philip and meets his eyes. His chestnut irises are warm and soothing. A single glance is all it takes to calm his nerves, and he looks back at Ethan confidently. 

"Actually, he came with me," Lukas insists, motioning for Philip to join them.

Philip tentatively approaches them, hands tucked in the front pouch of his sweatshirt (which actually belongs to Lukas). He swallows the nervous lump in his throat and tries to avoid looking at Ethan, whom he hates the most out of all of them.

"Hi," Philip says shyly.

Ethan cocks an eyebrow. "What's going on?"

"Isn't this the gay kid who's been following you around?" Ally asks, confusion threaded in her voice.

"He's... my friend, actually," Lukas clarifies.

"Since when?" Keaton cuts in.

"Since he moved here," Lukas continues, looking at Philip for confirmation, who just nods silently.

Ethan scoffs. "You guys beat each other up in the hallway not too long ago," he mutters, clearly bewildered.

"We had a... disagreement at the time," Lukas explains vaguely. "But Philip's a really cool guy. I wouldn't be friends with him if he wasn't. He's actually been helping me film my motocross videos for my YouTube channel."

Keaton laughs quietly. "This is the plot twist of the century, man."

"You're telling me," Ethan says, shaking his head. He reaches over and grabs a can of beer and tosses it to Philip, who catches it clumsily. "I'm sorry for giving you shit, Philip, especially for what I did to your locker."

"It's fine," he says, even though it isn't.

"Any friend of Lukas's is a friend of mine."

Philip just nods and cracks open the beer. Lukas plops down on the sofa across from the coffee table and Philip sits next to him, knee bouncing anxiously. Nobody else notices it, but Lukas does. Of course he does.

"Why didn't you just tell us you two were friends?" Keaton questions.

"I don't know," Lukas lies, staring at the plastic cups on the table to avoid their gazes.

"Is it because you thought we'd think you were gay?" Ally asks with slurred words, clearly drunk already. "We're not stupid, Lukas. We know straight people can be friends with gay people. One of my best friends is gay, but that doesn't mean I'm a lesbian!"

Lukas just shrugs, because that's honestly a better lie than he could've come up with.

"Well, shit," Ethan chuckles. "We know you're not a faggot, Lukas."

Ally elbows her boyfriend in the stomach. "Babe!"

"What?"

"Don't say that word in front of Philip," she says, rolling her eyes. She then looks at Philip apologetically. "Don't listen to him— he doesn't have a filter when he's drunk."

 _Or ever_ , Philip thinks, but he doesn't say it out loud.

When one of Ally's friends arrive, the conversation topic changes, and Philip can practically see the tension drain fromLukas's body. He starts to relax and look more comfortable, joking around with his friends and drinking like normal. When nobody's looking, Philip discretely reaches over and squeezes Lukas's hand happily. He silently mouths, "We're okay."

And for the first time in a long time, Lukas knows it's true.

°°°

Three beers and a shot of tequila later, Lukas is drunk. But to be fair,  _everyone_ is. Well, everyone but Philip. He's perfectly fine with his single beer, thank you very much.

He's slurring his words and has his arm draped around Philip's shoulder, but thankfully everybody else is too intoxicated to care. They've been talking and drinking for almost an hour now, and Philip has learned a lot of information about Lukas's friends that he never really wanted to know in the first place.

Suddenly, in the midst of a very intense debate about who's the hottest girl at their school, Philip feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks behind him to see Jace standing there with a huge smile on his face, clutching a red plastic cup of inconspicuous alcohol.

"Philip!" he shouts happily.

Philip's eyes widen. He immediately stands up and walks over to him, disregarding Lukas and his friends. They don't even notice his absence, too drunk to care.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, smile growing on his lips. He's relieved to see someone he can actually tolerate at this party besides Lukas.

"Sierra from journalism club is friends with Ally, so she basically forced me to come here," he says, rolling his eyes.

"Why?"

"She wants me to get laid, and she's convinced that the gay population is higher in Red Hook than in Tivoli," he explains, laughing and blushing.

Philip shakes his head fondly. "Well, I think you're out of luck. I'm pretty sure I'm the only homo here," he says doubtfully.

Jace hums and raises his eyebrows. "I wouldn't say that's necessarily a bad thing," he insists, brushing his hand softly along Philip's bicep.

Philip's heart immediately starts thudding in his chest. Maybe it's the small amount of alcohol circulating in his veins, but he's pretty sure Jace is trying to flirt with him. Because he thinks Philip is single. Because he doesn't know his boyfriend is in the same room as them. Because Lukas is closeted.

Fuck.

"Oh, uh, I—"

"You're cute when you're nervous," Jace teases with a smug smile.

Philip's jaw tightens. He wants to tell him the truth. He wants to tell him that he's madly in love with his boyfriend and that he'd prefer things to stay platonic between them. He wants to say all these things, but no words come out.

Jace motions towards the other side of the room. "Come hang out with my friends and I. I'm sure you don't want to spend time with those assholes anyway," he mutters, eyes scanning over Lukas's friends. They're all laughing and tossing Cheetos at each other, trying to catch them in their mouths. A sea of misfired carnage litters the carpet around them, spewing orange dust.

Philip just nods silently and follows Jace to his group of friends, who all introduce themselves. He already knows Sierra, but the rest all seem nice. A lot nicer than Lukas's friends, at least, which sets the bar pretty low. They're all tipsy and bopping along to the music, giggling and referencing inside jokes that Philip doesn't understand.

"You look anxious," Jace whispers to him over the loud chatter and music.

Philip gulps. "I'm fine."

"Just relax. We don't bite," Jace says, winking. "Unless you want me to."

Philip feels the blood rushing to his cheeks. He knows he should probably go back to Lukas's friends, but his feet remain planted on the ground.

He has a feeling this is going to be a long night.

°°°

Lukas's hand is gripping the armrest of the couch tightly, nails digging into the fabric. His icy eyes are focused on Philip across the room, angrily gritting his teeth while Jace shamelessly flirts with Philip who's completely oblivious. He ignores his friends who are talking about some random television show that Lukas has never watched. His sole focus is on Philip, watching his every move. He's clearly trying to distance himself from Jace, but he keeps bringing them back together and tries to get closer to him. Lukas clenches his fists.

He watches in distress as Jace hooks his arm around Philip's waist. Philip immediately looks uncomfortable and tries to wiggle out of his grasp, but Jace keeps his hand there firmly, fingers nudging up the hem of his shirt. Lukas is totally drunk, and all judgement is blurred in his brain. He stands up angrily and marches towards them, ignoring the confused calls from his friends.

Out of pure jealousy and intoxication, he grabs Philip's shoulder and pulls him towards him. Philip looks up at Lukas with parted lips, tilting his head.

"Luka," Philip says quietly in a warning tone, nervously glancing at Lukas's friends. They're all staring at them.

"Hey, Lukas, how's it going?" Jace asks, ignorant to Lukas's jealousy. "I hear you and Philip are friends now, yeah? That's really awesome."

Lukas glares at him. Jace looks confused.

"Mine," Lukas murmurs before cupping Philip's jawline, bringing their lips together.

The world stops— or at least that's how it feels. Philip's mind turns blank as he kisses his boyfriend in the middle of the party, all eyes on them. Quiet gasps and baffled whispers surround them, but Philip's only focus is on Lukas. He only pays attention to the warmth of Lukas's lips, the taste of beer on his tongue, and the feeling of his large hand on his waist holding him close.

When they finally separate, Lukas's eyes are solely on him. He keeps their faces close together and brushes his thumb against his cheek, rendering Philip speechless. Everyone at the party falls silent as well.

"Oh," Lukas breathes, suddenly becoming aware of what he just did. He looks around at the crowd of people staring at them in awe in stunned silence. The loud music pounding through the speakers is the only source of noise, matching the heavy beating in Lukas's heart. The alcohol is making his head spin, and he can feel his world crashing down around him.

Lukas doesn't say another word. He simply rushes out of the living room, pushing past stunned bodies, and escapes into the nearest bathroom. He quickly shuts and locks the door behind him, running his fingers through his hair, teeth clenched. He starts pacing back and forth in the small confinements of four walls, cursing under his breath.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_.  _Why did I do that?_

Nervousness and regret churns in his stomach. He can hear the voices beginning to rise again outside, muffled through the door. He knows they're all talking about him— about what he just did. About him and Philip.

Lukas empties his stomach in the toilet before blacking out on the cold, tile floor. 


	15. Hangover

The tall, dew-covered grass brushes against their legs as Philip guides Lukas towards the front door. He has his arm draped over his shoulder, head swaying with intoxication, and is groaning incoherently under his breath. When he stumbles over his own feet and lolls his face against Philip's neck, he can still smell the alcohol on his breath.

"C'mon, babe, just a little further," Philip promises, practically dragging him up the porch steps.

It's still dark outside, and the moon is the only source of light guiding them. The bleached glow of moonlight illuminates Lukas's pale skin, showing the redness of his cheeks and the shimmer of spit on his chapped lips. Philip has lost track of the amount of times Lukas has thrown up tonight.

Lukas whines drunkenly in protest. "No! We can't go inside," he says, hiccuping. "Helen and Gabe are gonna hate me."

"They're asleep," Philip insists. "It's three o'clock in the morning. You just have to be quiet."

Lukas whimpers against his skin, face still pressed into his neck. "My head hurts."

"I'll get you some pain killers, alright? You just gotta shut up until we get to my room."

Lukas pouts up at him, blue eyes blinking. "Don't tell me to shut up. You're such a meanie."

Philip rolls his eyes. "Lukas," he says in a warning tone.

"I'm gonna have to transfer to a different school, Philly-Dilly," Lukas says, slurring his words.

"No, you're not."

"I  _am_ ," Lukas contends. "I kissed you in front of everyone."

"Let's not talk about that right now, okay?" Philip says, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "Just be quiet and follow me."

Philip reaches into his pocket and finds his key. He unlocks the front door and opens it slowly, making sure not to make any noise. He grabs Lukas's elbow and directs him inside before quietly closing the door behind them. All the lights are turned off, so Philip relies on his spacial memory to maneuver up the staircase.

"You're going too fast," Lukas whines softly, feet moving sluggishly up the stairs.

"You're just slow," Philip argues.

"I am not," Lukas protests, scrunching his nose. "I'm fast. Have you seen my motorcycle? It goes fast. I go fast. Super speedy!"

Philip hushes him when they reach the landing at the top of the staircase. He grabs Lukas's hand and starts to lead him towards his bedroom. The wooden floorboards creak loudly beneath their weight, and Philip curses under his breath.

Suddenly, he hears stagnant footsteps approaching them from the opposite end of the hallway. Philip looks back at Lukas with a worried expression on his face.

The light turns on. Gabe stands in front of them wearing a blue robe, lack of sleep evident in his slow, syrupy movements. He rubs his hand down the length of his face, sighing deeply.

"What are you two doing? It's three o'clock in the morning."

"I told you I'd probably be out past curfew," Philip mutters.

"That's not the problem, Philip," Gabe says, voice stern. "You know the rules about Lukas staying the night."

"I'm sorry," Lukas interjects, arm still looped around Philip's shoulder for support. "Don't get mad at Philip. He's too cute to get in trouble. Do you see his face?" He pinches Philip's cheek and laughs.

Philip swats his hand away. "You're not helping."

"Oh my god," Gabe says, tilting his head with disbelief. "He's drunk."

"Maybe a little bit," Lukas admits.

"He just can't go home like this," Philip explains. "You know how Bo is."

"Are  _you_ drunk, too?" Gabe demands, eyebrows raised.

"What? No," Philip says honestly. "I just... don't really drink. Y'know, because of my mom."

"Did he drive you two home from the party?"

"No, of course not. We walked."

Gabe nods slowly. "Okay, good."

"Please don't make me go home," Lukas begs, voice suddenly sounding serious. "If my dad somehow finds out what happened tonight, he'll kill me."

"If he finds out what? That you got drunk?"

"That I kissed Philip," Lukas explains, nuzzling his nose into his boyfriend's neck.

"He already knows you're dating, Lukas."

"But I kissed him at the party! In front of everyone," Lukas recalls, blushing. "He's gonna h-hate me."

Gabe sighs and rubs his temples tiredly. "Okay. You can stay over tonight," he caves in.

Lukas grins and hugs Gabe tightly, smiling against his large chest. "Thank you!"

"But you have to sleep in the guest room tonight, Philip," Gabe says, eyeing him sternly.

"I will," Philip promises.

"You're the best!" Lukas garbles, finally letting go of Gabe.

"And you'll have to explain this to Helen in the morning," Gabe mutters. "Get some sleep, son."

He hugs Philip and kisses the top of his head before retreating to his and Helen's bedroom. When the door shuts behind him, Philip lets out a sigh of relief. He looks at his drunken boyfriend with an annoyed expression on his face.

"We could've gotten in so much trouble," Philip says, shaking his head.

He walks into his room and toes off his shoes. Lukas immediately falls face-first into his bed, sprawling out his long, lanky limbs. He sighs into Philip's pillow before turning his face slightly, smirking at the brunet boy who's taking off his shirt.

"Oh," he purrs. "Is it sexy time?"

"Absolutely not," Philip scoffs.

Lukas pouts. "Why not?"

"For one, you're drunk. And I'm only taking off my shirt because you got vomit on it earlier."

"I'm sowwy."

"You better be," Philip mumbles. He changes into a pair of comfortable sweatpants before walking over to his bedside. He leans over and kisses Lukas's cheek. "I'll go get you some water and pain meds."

Lukas smiles sleepily. "You're the  _best_ boyfriend ever. Have I ever mentioned that? You're so great. The bestest."

"Yeah, whatever," Philip laughs, rolling his eyes.

Just a few minutes later, he returns to his bedroom with a glass of water and two pills in his hand, but Lukas is already fast asleep. He's snoring loudly and has his mouth parted slightly, blond hair falling messily over his eyes.

Philip huffs at the sight. He sets the water and pills on his bedside table and grabs his comforter, pulling it over Lukas's body. He tucks him in and kisses his forehead.

"Goodnight, Luka. I love you," he whispers, even though he knows he can't hear him.

With that, he retreats downstairs to the guest room and falls asleep on the lumpy bed, mind buzzing with uncertain thoughts.

✽ ✽✽

Lukas awakes to the sound of distant voices arguing. When he blinks his eyes, he sees nothing but blinding sunlight streaming in from the nearby window. It takes him a few minutes to realize that the blankets on top of him aren't his own, and the air doesn't smell like his house. He sits up sorely and looks around with confusion. He's in Philip's bedroom.

His head starts pounding as soon as the blood rushes to his skull. He presses the heels of his palms against his eyes, rubbing them tiredly. He clutches his stomach and puffs out his cheeks, letting out a breath of exhaustion.

Yeah, he's definitely hungover.

His ears are ringing when he tries to focus on the voices downstairs. The high-pitched noise makes it difficult to decipher the conversation, but he recognizes Philip and Helen's voices. He groans tiredly before swinging his limbs over the edge of the bed, planting his bare feet on the cold floor.

When he stands up, he feels like the world is spinning. He stumbles into Philip's bathroom and stares at the mirror above the sink. His reflection looks like a shell of his normal self. His eyes have dark circles beneath them, and his hair is a greasy mess. He groggily cups some cold water into his hands and splashes his face, trying to wake himself up.

Sighing, Lukas pats his face dry with a towel and carefully walks downstairs towards kitchen, careful not to trip from dizziness. He finds Philip sitting at the table with Helen standing in front of him, tense expressions on both of their faces. Gabe is just leaning against the counter quietly and drinking his coffee. None of them notice Lukas's presence as he stands by the archway that separates the foyer and kitchen, slightly hidden behind the wall.

"I told you multiple times that you couldn't get in any more trouble," Helen scolds.

"I didn't do anything wrong!"

"You were at a party with alcohol, Philip, and you're seventeen."

"Every high school party has alcohol! And I didn't even drink."

"If CPS found out—"

"They won't."

Helen sighs, hands on her hips. "I know you don't want to hear this, but I just can't help but think that Lukas might not be a good influence on you."

Philip scoffs. "That's not true—"

"If it wasn't for him, you wouldn't have witnessed the murders in the cabin. You wouldn't have lied to me about camping. You wouldn't have showed up last night with him behind my back."

Philip frowns. "None of that is his fault. I'm capable of making my own choices."

Helen looks at Gabe for support, but he just shrugs and continues drinking his coffee. Helen grumbles with annoyance and pinches the bridge of her nose, shutting her eyes.

"I just don't want to lose you, Philip."

Philip tilts his head. "Helen—"

"If CPS took you away from me— from  _us_ — I just... I don't know what I'd do," she admits, voice finally cracking. She sits down in the chair next to Philip and rests her elbows on the table.

"I really do like Lukas, Philip, and I think you two are something special," Helen confesses. "But you just have to promise me that you'll try to be a good kid, okay? I can't bare the thought of CPS taking you elsewhere."

Philip stays quiet for a few seconds. Lukas watches how he picks at a hangnail on his thumb, one of his many nervous habits. The lump in his throat bobs visibly.

"What if we didn't have to worry about me moving around in the foster system anymore?" he asks softly, voice barely audible.

Helen and Gabe both look at him with confusion.

"Like... maybe you guys could adopt me?" Philip suggests, purposefully avoiding eye contact.

Lukas is pretty sure he can hear his heart pounding. Holy shit. He never knew Philip wanted to be adopted by them. He always wondered, deep down, but it never came up in conversation.

"Do you really mean that?" Helen asks apprehensively.

Philip bites his bottom lip. "Yeah. Why? Is that crazy of me to say?"

"No, it's not crazy," Gabe assures.

"That's just... a big deal, Philip," Helen adds.

"I know."

"You'd be stuck with us for the rest of your life," she teases.

Philip rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I know."

"We'll talk about it over dinner," Helen promises, reaching over and squeezing Philip's hand. "I'm gonna be late for work."

She stands up from the table and refills her coffee mug. Lukas takes that as an opportunity to walk into the kitchen, making himself seen. The three of them all look in his direction and smile.

"Morning," Lukas says faintly.

"Morning," Philip echoes, grinning.

"Did you sleep well?" Helen asks, adding a splash of creamer to her coffee.

"Yes. Thank you for letting me stay the night, Sheriff Torrence. It won't happen again."

Helen's face softens. "I'd appreciate it, Lukas." She grabs a few folders on the counter filled with police files and tucks them under her arm. "Alright, I'm off to work. Have a good day, everyone." She kisses Gabe's cheek before departing.

"I'll be working outside in the barn if you boys need anything," Gabe says soon after.

When they're finally alone, Philip looks at Lukas and lightly touches his arm. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," Lukas confesses.

"Do you remember anything about last night?"

"What, like the whole kissing thing?" Lukas grumbles, head resting in his hands. He stares at the blackness behind his eyelids.

"It's gonna be alright, Luka."

"It's not," he says stubbornly, shaking his head.

"Are you gonna deny what happened?"

"Half of the school was there at the party, so no. I don't really have a choice."

Philip nods slowly. "Okay."

"My life is over," Lukas groans.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because nothing will be the same. Nobody's gonna see me as the cool kid who rides motorcycles anymore. They're just... gonna see me as the gay kid."

"Well, not  _the_  gay kid. I think I've already won that title."

Lukas can't help but laugh. He looks up at his boyfriend sweetly, letting all the negative thoughts escape his mind. Despite the hurricane of emotions that he's endured since last night, when he meets Philip's eyes, all of his worries transform into a calm sea.

"I love you, Philip."

Philip grins, showing his dimples. Lukas leans in to kiss him, but he turns his head quickly at the last second.

"No kisses until you brush your teeth."

Lukas frowns. "But—"

"You're hungover and threw up multiple times last night. There's no way you're kissing me right now."

Lukas pouts. "You're so mean."

Philip giggles and kisses his temple, making the blond boy smile again.

"I know."


	16. Pillowtalk

Lukas is currently deep in denial. He's been ignoring all conversations pertaining to the infamous kiss at Ally's party. He hasn't been responding to any of his friends' frantic, confused text messages either. Despite Philip's constant reassurance, he chooses to act like it never happened. As if his entire life didn't just change the night before.

The blond boy's eyes are focused on Philip's television screen while he plays a game on his X-Box, wildly smashing buttons on the controller. They're both sitting on the couch in the living room, and Philip's feet are propped on Lukas's lap. There's a half-empty bowl of buttered popcorn on the coffee table.

"Luka," Philip murmurs, glancing at him tiredly.

Lukas doesn't respond, eyes glued to the screen.

"Babe," Philip says a little louder, poking him with his toe.

Silence.

"Give me attention, you cock-sucker," Philip groans, throwing a piece of popcorn at his face. The kernel ricochets off his nose and falls onto the carpet beneath them.

Lukas finally looks over at him, mouth slightly gaped. "You made me die," he complains, motioning at the game. His character lies dead on the ground, virtual red blood pooling around him.

Philip rolls his eyes. "I don't care."

Lukas just scoffs and shakes his head before picking up the controller again. Philip grumbles in protest and crawls towards him on the couch. He positions his thighs on opposite sides of his lap, straddling him. Lukas finally looks up and meets his eyes, breath unsteady.

"You've been ignoring me ever since you sobered up," Philip complains, arms snaking around his neck.

Lukas rests his hands on his hips. "We've been on this couch together all afternoon, Philip."

"Yeah, but you've been ignoring me," Philip pouts.

Lukas grins before pecking his lips. "I have not," he insists.

"You've barely spoken."

"I was just playing a game—"

"No," Philip interrupts, tilting his head. "We both know it's more than that."

Lukas sighs, tilting back his head to expose the bulge of his Adam's apple. "C'mon, babe."

"Can we talk about it?" Philip asks timidly.

Lukas purses his lips. "Not now—"

"Then when?"

"Philip—"

"I'm serious. We can't just pretend like nothing happened," Philip says with exasperation, hands resting on his broad shoulders. He can feel his muscles tense under his fingers. "We kissed in front of everyone. People at school are gonna know you're gay. You can't back away from that."

Lukas stares into his eyes, irises cold and emotionless. He studies the details of his Philip's face— his eyelashes, the small mole on his chin, his smile lines. He lets his mind become distracted by his boyfriend, numbing all the other worries in his life.

"Babe," Philip says, rubbing his hand down the length of his bicep. "I'm worried about you. You need to accept the fact that things are gonna be different when we go back to school on Monday."

Lukas scoffs. "I know that! I just don't know what else there's left to say, for fuck's sake!" he snaps, veins bulging from his temples.

Philip recoils, eyes widening. He immediately starts to climb off his lap. "Alright, then."

"Wait," Lukas sighs, grabbing his wrist to stop him. "I'm sorry, okay? It's just... when we go back to school on Monday, my whole life is gonna be different. So until then, I just wanna pretend everything is normal before it all goes to shit."

Philip bites the inside of his cheek and sits on Lukas's lap again. "Nothing is going to shit, Lukas. You're just going to be able to be yourself more than you've ever been before."

Lukas laughs bitterly, shaking his head. "You don't get it. My friends aren't like the people you grew up with in the city."

"I think you'd be surprised."

"You saw what my stupid friends did to your locker."

"But I was an outcast to them— an easy target. Plus, they thought I was some creepy kid who stalked you. But it's different with you; you're their friend. They'll come to terms with it if they really care about you."

Lukas averts his eyes to the blank television screen mounted on the wall, trying to avoid Philip's gaze. Silence beats between them. Philip's hand moves up to cup his boyfriend's face and regain his focus.

"I'm sorry," Philip mutters, hand slipping down to his nape.

"For what?"

"For coming to the party. If I wasn't there, we wouldn't have kissed, and then you wouldn't have to deal with all this."

Lukas shakes his head. "No, Philip, I wanted you there."

"Are you sure? Because it kinda seems like the opposite right now."

The blond boy sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "I wanted my friends to stop bullying you. I just wanted them to think we were friends so they'd leave you alone... but when I'm around you, Philip, I can't— I can't just be  _friends_ with you. Especially when alcohol is involved."

"Well, obviously," Philip murmurs, kissing his cheek.

His face turns pink. "How bad was I? I can't even remember half of what happened."

Philip smirks. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah, really. All I can remember is the kiss and throwing up in the bathroom, and then you practically carried me all the way here. Everything else is just... a blur."

Philip stifles a laugh. "You were kind of a hot mess, babe."

"I'm always hot," Lukas teases, smug grin tugging on the corner of his mouth.

Philip just rolls his eyes. "You really don't remember what happened? Or why you kissed me?"

Lukas parts his lips with confusion. "Well, I'm assuming I kissed you because I'm gay."

Philip slumps his shoulder. "Lukas," he says disapprovingly. 

"What?"

"You seriously don't remember what happened with Jace?"

Lukas's eyes suddenly widen. "What about him?" 

"Well... he was a little drunk and being flirty with me. And then you got jealous and kissed me in front of him— in front of everyone."

Lukas blinks at him in silence for a few seconds. "Oh my god," he grunts, throwing his head back in frustration. "That's so embarrassing."

"It was sorta hot, actually," Philip admits, pink rising to his cheeks. "I like you when you're jealous."

Lukas wrinkles his nose at him. "I'm not the jealous type."

Philip snorts. "Right."

"I'm not! I was drunk."

"Oh, please. You look like you want to murder Jace every time you see him."

Lukas throws his hands in the air with frustration. "Well, can you blame me? He's the only other openly gay kid at our school! And it's not like he's subtle about wanting to get in your pants."

Philip laughs. "That's not true."

"It is! Why do you think he asked you to join the school newspaper?"

Philip pauses. His expression turns cold. "Because I'm a talented photographer, Lukas."

The blond boy frowns. "Shit, sorry. That came out wrong."

"Yeah, it did."

"I didn't mean it like that," Lukas promises. He gently rubs the exposed skin on his hip, just below the hem of his shirt. "Obviously you're talented. I was just giving you shit."

"Yeah," Philip mutters, looking anywhere but at Lukas. 

"I'm sorry," Lukas repeats, reaching up to cup his cheek. He directs his face back to him and kisses his jawline, then his cheek, and then his forehead. 

Philip can't help but crack a small smile, dimples and all. Lukas's heart just melts. He has him wrapped around his finger, but he doesn't mind one bit. 

"Are you gonna go home tonight?" Philip asks softly, absentmindedly toying with the strings of Lukas's sweatshirt.

"I dunno," he sighs. "Not sure if I can deal with my dad right now, on top of everything else."

Philip bites his lip. "Where does he think you are now?"

"Ethan's."

"I see."

Lukas shuts his eyes. "He's gonna kill me when he finds out about the kiss. If it was up to him, I'd be in the closet forever."

"How would he find out?"

"It's a small town, Philip. People talk."

"He'll come around," Philip assures, looping his arms around his neck. He pecks his lips. "I promise."

Lukas smiles shyly and kisses him again. He lets Philip inch forward on his lap and quickly deepens the kiss, tongue pressing against the barrier of their lips. He nibbles on his bottom lip while his hand subtly reaches underneath his sweatshirt, feeling the faint muscles of his stomach. Lukas shudders beneath him. 

Philip's hands explore his chest while he moves his lips down the column of Lukas's throat, leaving quick kisses on his pale skin. He stops at the base of his neck and starts sucking a mark there, nipping and licking over the reddened skin. Lukas curses under his breath and braces his hands on Philip's hips. 

"Babe," he says, voice strained. "Gabe could walk in at literally any moment."

Philip pulls back, eyes dark with desire. "He'll be working in the barn all afternoon," he reassures. "He always does."

Lukas looks apprehensive, but he can't stop his thumbs from subconsciously sliding under the waistline of his sweatpants. 

"We can go upstairs," Philip teases, kissing his neck again.

Lukas's throat bobs slowly. "We haven't... since the hotel."

"I know."

"Do you want to?"

"Well, obviously. Do you?" 

Lukas nods slowly. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" Philip repeats, already grabbing his hand and leading him upstairs.

When they reach his bedroom, he immediately shuts and locks the door. Lukas presses him up against the door, kissing him senselessly and bracing his hips like he's anchoring him. His hand sneaks up the front of Philip's shirt, cold fingers gliding over the faint muscles in his stomach. 

Philip breaks the kiss for a moment to take off his t-shirt, easily slipping it over his head and letting it fall to the floor. When he looks back at Lukas, his eyes are wide and full of lust, and his chest is rising and falling with each heavy breath. He bites his lip and climbs onto the bed, pulling Lukas on top of him. 

Lukas's hand finds its way to Philip's crotch, and he cups his bulge and rubs him through his pants, making him groan against his lips. Philip bites down on his boyfriend's bottom lip and presses up into his palm, growing hard. Lukas smirks and fumbles with the button of his jeans and unzips them. 

"Get your clothes off," Philip says quietly, already grabbing the loose fabric of Lukas's sweatshirt.

Lukas chuckles, takes off his hoodie, and shimmies out of his joggers. Philip hums with approval and grabs Lukas's waist, bringing their bodies together again. He grinds against him and kisses him sloppily, hand cupping his stubbly cheek. 

"Do you have anything?" Lukas asks breathlessly, dark brows scrunched with concern.

"Yeah, sure, okay," Philip murmurs quickly, reaching over to his nightstand. He rummages through the drawer beneath layers of old papers and Polaroids. He pulls out a small black bottle of lube and a row of condoms, hands fumbling. He nervously sets them on the mattress beside them. Lukas stares at them and gulps.

"Are you okay?" Philip asks, voice cracking.

Lukas nods slowly. "Yeah. Just... wanna do this right."

A small smile tugs on Philip's lips. "We've had sex before, Luka."

"Yeah, once," Lukas deadpans. "And I don't really... remember a lot of it."

"You don't?"

"Not really. After I lost all that blood in the trunk of Kane’s car, the whole day became sorta... blurry." 

"Oh," Philip says softly, hand gently caressing Lukas's arm. He kisses him reassuringly. "I love you. I trust you."

Lukas nuzzles his nose against his. "I love you, too."

"I'll show you."

Philip takes off his jeans, kicking them off the edge of the mattress. He then takes the lead and grabs the lube. He uncaps it and covers his fingers messily. Lukas helps him pull down his underwear, and he meets his eyes with uncertainty, timid blue locking with warm brown. 

Philip presses his own fingers against his entrance, slowly at first, and shuts his eyes. He eventually presses his index finger inside, making the muscles in his neck tense up. Lukas bites his lip as he watches, palming himself. Philip opens himself up while Lukas watches hungrily, listening to the sweet noises leaving Philip's lips. 

When he's finally stretched enough, Philip rips off one of the condom packets and tosses it at Lukas, who catches it clumsily. 

"C'mon," Philip mutters, pulling his boyfriend closer. "Fuck me."

Lukas pecks his lips before taking out his dick, hard and swollen. It's even better than Philip remembers. He easily puts the condom on himself, hand sliding down its length, and adds some extra lube for good measure. He hovers over the brunet boy and lines up with his entrance, hands braced on either side of his head. He kisses him as he presses inside, allowing himself to be encased by the warmth of Philip's body. 

"Holy fuck," Philip exhales, as if the words were punched right out of his chest.

Lukas freezes. "Shit. Sorry, are you—"

Philip kisses him to interrupt him. "I'm fine," he reassures. "Just— go slow."

Lukas nods, blushing hotly, and starts moving his hips slowly. Philip whimpers beneath him and turns his head slightly, giving Lukas perfect access to his neck. He starts kissing up the length of his throat to distract him from the slight pain as his body adjusts. Philip's nails rake up the bare, pale skin of Lukas's back. 

When Lukas finds a rhythm, hitting a certain spot inside of Philip that makes his toes curl, he starts to feel more comfortable. Philip wraps his legs around his waist and pulls him closer, whispering his name hotly under his breath. Lukas's mind lights up like fireworks— little explosions of emotion. He hammers into him and grunts with pleasure, finally learning how to take control. 

"Oh my god," Philip whimpers, eyes fluttering. 

"So good," Lukas says subconsciously, or maybe consciously. He really isn't sure what he means. Everything about this is just  _good_ , and he can't believe he's doing this with the boy he loves so dearly. The boy who stole his heart from the moment they met. The boy who was with him through the best and worst parts of his life. 

"My sweet boy," Lukas mutters, stroking Philip's cock between them. 

Philip's entire body shudders. "Lu— fuck," he exhales, head tossing from side-to-side. 

Lukas rubs his thumb over the head of Philip's dick, making him moan loudly and turn to bite his own bicep, trying to keep quiet. Trying not to let Gabe hear them from the barn nearby. He pinches his eyes shut as he comes in Lukas's head while he fucks him through his orgasm. 

Philip's mind is in a state of bliss while Lukas comes undone a few seconds later. He mutters Philip's name quietly in his ear while his movements slow down, cock deep inside of him, releasing. He mouths sloppy kisses on Philip's warm shoulder while he tries to catch his breath. Lukas's weight feels like a mountain on top of him, but he doesn't really mind. 

After a few moments, with Lukas softening inside of him, Philip starts tracing random patterns on his back. He kisses his temple and tucks his sweaty blond hair behind his ear. He wants to see his face and look into his eyes. 

"Babe," Philip says quietly, loving smile on his face. "You alright?"

Lukas looks up at him and nods before pecking his lips. "Good. You?"

"Yeah, of course."

Lukas pulls out slowly, making Philip inhale sharply, and takes off the condom. He ties it and tosses it into the bin near Philip's bed, sneakily tucking it under some dirty tissues so Helen won't see it. 

"Fuck," Lukas grumbles, rolling over onto the bed next to him. His chest is still rising and falling heavily. "Was that as good as the first time?"

Philip turns towards him, arm hanging loosely over his stomach. He rests his chin on his shoulder. "It was different... in a good way. I liked it."

Lukas raises an eyebrow. "Different how?"

"I dunno. The first time, we were both kind of scared because of everything that happened. It almost felt like we were... saying goodbye, in a sense. Like we were unsure if there was even gonna be a next time," Philip explains, fingers ghosting over the scar on Lukas's pec. "Plus, I kinda had to ride you since, like. You were just shot."

Lukas laughs airily. "Oh, right. Forgot about that part."

"I didn't. I think about it all the time," Philip admits, and then shakes his head when Lukas smirks. "Not the sex. I mean you getting shot." 

Lukas's forehead creases with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I dunno. It's just scary to think about, like. What would've happened if I'd lost you," he explains, purposefully avoiding Lukas's curious gaze. 

"Hey," Lukas mumbles, lifting up Philip's chin. "I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

Philip gives a gentle smile and kisses him. "Alright."

"We should probably get dressed before Helen and Gabe get back, though," Lukas suggests, staring longingly at the pile of clothes on the floor. 

"We've still got a few more minutes," Philip hums as he rolls back on top of him, kissing him sweetly. 

 


End file.
